


The Truth in Lies

by vesaldi



Series: The Dellisverse [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dellisverse, F/M, Thar be Spoilers!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-03 00:31:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 31
Words: 116,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2831585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vesaldi/pseuds/vesaldi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>History is often colored by those that tell the tale. Ask about Dellis Trevelyan, Hero of Thedas and Conqueror of the Breach, and they'll tell you a tale of a noble from Ostwick who saved the world. The truth is somewhat less romantic. Dellis Trevelyan was a thief. A rogue. A charlatan. He had no idea how he came to be in the Frostback mountains or why he was at the Conclave. What he did know was that all of Thedas believed him a killer, murderer of the Divine and destroyer of the Conclave, and the only way he could prove his innocence would be to save the world from the Breach. But how could a thief from the back alleys of Denerim convince the world that he was a hero?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Thief Among Nobles

Bits of light streamed into the small room as Dellis Trevelyan's eyes fluttered open. He groaned slightly as he stretched his neck, feeling a stiffness that suggested he had been unconscious for more than a few mere minutes. As he tried to massage the pain away, he quickly realized that his hands were bound.

Panic quickly set in. Dellis was no stranger to shackles and prisons; in fact, he was quite adept at escaping them. But this time he had no idea where he was, how he’d gotten there, or what crime he had committed.

Dellis wriggled himself into a sitting position and surveyed his surroundings. The cell was solid, clearly old but built to withstand the test of time. He was certain he could find a way out, given the chance. The jarring sound of the prison doors creaking open put to rest any plans for escape.

No fewer than four guards marched in, each wearing Chantry colors. Dellis felt his muscles tense as one of the guards fumbled with the lock on his cell door. As the door opened, two of the guards seized him by the arms and dragged him his cell and into the center of the prison room. The moved into position at each of the four corners of the room, blades drawn and pointed at their captive.

With a loud clank, the main door opened and Dellis could see the silhouettes of two women. He had hoped for friendly faces, but it was soon clear that he would have no such luck. The first woman to walk through the door was tall, and clad in some kind of Chantry armor. Her hand gripped the hilt of a longsword tucked neatly into the sheath at her hip. Gripped it perhaps a bit _too_ tightly, Dellis thought to himself. She made a beeline for the center of the room, while her companion waited in the shadows.

"Tell me why I should not kill you where you stand," the woman hissed as she leaned in so closely that Dellis instinctively recoiled.

"I'm not actually standing," Dellis reminded her. He immediately regretted the quip as he felt a sting across his cheek, reeling from the blow he had not expected to come so quickly.

"Cassandra, we need him alive," the second woman warned, taking a single step forward. Cassandra paused for a moment before returning her attention to Dellis.

"The Conclave is destroyed," Cassandra continued. "Everyone who attended is dead... except for you."

Dellis stared at her for a moment, blinking his eyes and trying to ignore the throbbing pain along the left side of his face. He could feel blood trickling down his neck. "Wait," he said after a moment, seeing her intense and vicious gaze. "You think I had something to do with this?"

"Explain this!" she shouted, grabbing his left arm just below the shackle. As if on cue, a bright green light erupted, causing Dellis to cry out in pain. Green tendrils traced along his forearm toward his shoulder.

"Wh-what is that?" he asked as he stared as his hand, then back at his captor.

"You mean to tell me you don't know?" Cassandra asked with a hint of a laugh.

"I don't!" Dellis assured her, eyeing his palm again. "I have no idea how it got there."

"You're lying!" she snarled, grabbing him by the collar and hauling him to his feet.

"We need him," the second woman reminded her. Dellis stared at Cassandra as her mouth twisted into an angry scowl.

"What’s the Conclave?" Dellis dared ask after a moment of strained silence.

"What is the Conclave?" Cassandra repeated.

"Yes?" Dellis asked, unsure why the question was so unusual.

The two women exchanged glances, continuing the uneasy silence. "Do you remember anything?" the second woman asked after a moment.

“I don’t even know where we are, much less what this Conclave is," he told them. "The last thing I remember is being in Denerim."

"Denerim?" Cassandra asked in disbelief.

"Yes, Denerim," Dellis repeated, noticing the perplexed look on both women's faces. "Where are we now?"

"Haven," the second woman explained. "In the Frostback mountains."

"What?" Dellis asked in genuine surprised. "How did I--"

"Go to the forward camp, Leliana," Cassandra interrupted, releasing Dellis and turning toward her companion. "I will take him to the rift."

Dellis quickly regained his footing, his muscles stiffening as the armor-clad woman turned back toward him. What felt like a thousand thoughts flooded his mind. He had been in Denerim yesterday. How could he possibly be in the Frostback mountains? It _wasn’t_ possible.

"Come with me," Cassandra ordered as she unlocked the shackles, grabbing him by the sleeve and roughly dragging him toward the door. For about half a second Dellis considered trying to escape before deciding any such attempt would end in a very painful death.

"What is the rift?" Dellis asked as the two exited the prison. He squinted as his eyes adjusted to the sudden flood of sunlight.

"It will be easier to show you," she replied, offering no further explanation.

It did not take long for Dellis to notice the tear in the sky. At the center of a swirling tempest was a great green maw, not dissimilar to the mark that had appeared on his hand. A long tendril of crackling green energy stretched from the tear down toward the ground below.

"We call it the Breach," Cassandra explained. "Demons stream forth and it grows larger with each passing hour."

As he stared at it, mouth agape, Dellis felt the burning sensation return to his arm. His knees buckled as his palm flared with green energy, leaving him kneeling before the warrior.

"Each time the Breach expands your mark spreads," Cassandra told him with little more than a glance downward. "It is killing you."

"No need to sugar coat it," he said sarcastically through gritted teeth.

"It may be the key to closing the Breach," she continued, ignoring his comment, "but there isn't much time."

"So, helping you is helping me," Dellis replied, pushing himself to his feet. "I guess we're partners then."

Cassandra snorted in disgust as she pointed toward the barracks ahead of them. He followed her silently, visibly shrinking before the angry crowd before them.

"They blame you," Cassandra explained curtly as she dragged him toward the camp's exit.

"For what, exactly?" Dellis asked. "A hole in the sky?"

"For the explosion," Cassandra answered, turning sharply and stopping him in his tracks.

"An explosion did that?" he asked, pointing at the Breach.

"Yes, an explosion," she snapped in return. "An explosion that created the Breach and killed everyone attending the Conclave... Including Divine Justinia."

"W-wait, the Divine was killed?" Dellis stuttered in shock. "And you really believe I had something to do with it?"

Cassandra paused and looked at him for a moment before pulling a knife out of her belt. For a moment Dellis felt certain that she meant to execute him, but instead she deftly slit the ropes still binding his hands and returned the knife to its sheath. "No, I suppose not."

"I swear to the Maker that I did not blow up a mountain," he assured her with as much earnestness as he could muster. The look she gave him suggested he had probably failed, but she said nothing.

"Come," she ordered. "We must test your mark on something smaller than the Breach."

"What do you mean test it?" Dellis asked, jogging to keep up.

"Be silent and follow," Cassandra ordered. As Dellis caught up with her he saw another eruption in the Breach and felt his mark ignite, wracking his arm in pain. A quick and firm grip on the back of his jacket kept him upright and pulled him forward. Cassandra clearly had no intention of letting Dellis slow her down.

"Where are we going, exactly?" Dellis risked asking. He sighed as Cassandra pointed toward the Breach. He should have known that would be the answer.

"It is not far," she replied brusquely as they approached a bridge over the frozen river below them. The two were about halfway across when the Breach erupted again. Dellis's body tensed as he tried to ignore the pain, this time managing to stay on his feet. Unlike the previous eruptions, this time Dellis could see several objects ejected from the tear. He began to back away as he realized one of them was hurtling straight toward them, but he was too late. It crashed through the bridge at immense speed, throwing the two of them to the icy riverbed below.

Dellis groaned as he rolled onto his side and slowly pushed himself to his feet. He would be sore, to be sure, but was thankful nothing seemed to be broken. As his eyes focused he could see Cassandra barreling away from him, sword and shield in hand toward what seemed to be... a demon? Dellis quickly took a step backward as the ice in front of him seemed to writhe in a greenish-black fog. He may not have been a mage but he knew that could only mean one thing.

 _Andraste's tits, I'm going to get eaten by a demon_ , Dellis thought to himself as he scrambled to find something to defend himself with. His eyes instantly fell upon the nearby corpse of a warrior or scout. He scrambled toward the body and snatched up the short blade beside it, then turned to face the shade before him.

Dellis had never seen a demon before, let alone fought one. He briefly glanced toward Cassandra, who was deftly holding her own amidst several of the creatures. Dellis wondered if perhaps she was a templar. He turned his attention back to the shade as it advanced on him, leaving a trail of blackness behind it.

The shade attacked first, dashing forward at an unnatural speed. Dellis ducked away to its flank, slashing the sword at the demon. It recoiled with a bizarre screech, giving Dellis the opening he needed. He pressed his attack, tearing off bits of the shade's cloak with each swing. The tattered remains floated in the brisk mountain air before briefly dissipating like smoke.

 _Maker's breath, how do templars do this?_ Dellis wondered to himself as he ducked beneath a particularly aggressive swipe. By this point, Cassandra had dealt with her own foes and was charging toward the pair. She made quick word of the shade as Dellis watched on in awe. As it fell, Cassandra pointed her longsword at toward him.

"Drop the blade," she snarled, inching closer.

"You're joking," Dellis replied with a chuckle. His smile disappeared when he realized that she was not, and likely was never, joking. "I was just attacked by _demons_. What did you want me to do?"

Cassandra held her blade steady, but after a moment her glare softened. "You're right," she admitted begrudgingly. "I cannot expect you to go undefended."

"Are those things everywhere?" Dellis asked as he followed her up the river bank and back to the road. She nodded in response, pointing in the distance toward the Breach.

"They are most concentrated near the Breach," Cassandra explained.

The two followed the road up towards what Cassandra explained to be the charred remains of the Temple of Sacred Ashes, occasionally stopping to dispatch isolated pockets of demons that still lingered at the outskirts of the ruins. With the warrior's help, Dellis was able to quickly adapt and learn to fight them, something that seemed to considerably mellow his companion's deathly glare.

"I hear voices," Dellis whispered as they climbed a flight of stairs carved into the rock bed. Cassandra was the first to reach the top. As Dellis cleared the top of the stony outcropping, he could see a green crystalline mass hovering in the air jut above a group of soldiers who were neck-deep in demons.

"We must help them," Cassandra shouted as she broke into a run. Dellis sprinted after her, gripping his blade tightly as Cassandra barreled into the fray.

The demons paid the two newcomers no mind, giving Dellis a much-needed advantage. He brought his sword down on one of the wraiths, cleaving it in half and using the momentum to tumble beneath another. He skidded across the gravel-littered ground, nearly tripping over the fallen body of one of the soldiers. As he looked up, Dellis could see a dwarf holding the largest crossbow he'd ever laid eyes on. He could also see that the dwarf was being flanked. Wasting no time, Dellis pushed himself to his feet and leapt in their direction.

" _Duck!_ " Dellis shouted as he hacked through one of the closer shades. Without hesitation the dwarf dropped to one knee as Dellis dipped a shoulder and launched over him back to back, pushing forward and stabbing his blade through another shade.

"Quickly, the rift!" an elf shouted, approaching Dellis with odd determination as Cassandra mopped up the last of the demons. Before he could object, the elf grabbed Dellis by the wrist and thrust his hand toward the green mass. He could feel the increasingly familiar burning sensation return as his hand ignited in a blaze green energy, but this time a tendril of energy shot out from his palm toward the mass. There was a bright burst of light, and once the flash dissipated Dellis was surprised to find the air around them calm and empty.

"What just happened?" Dellis asked, rubbing the back of his head.

"You sealed the rift," the elf explained with a smile. Cassandra seemed as surprised as Dellis.

"Nice work there, prisoner," the dwarf commented with a smirk as he approached the group. "Varric Tethras. Rogue, story-teller, and occasionally unwelcome tagalong." Dellis could heard Cassandra scoffed in disdain at the comment.

"As fun as all this has been, I have no idea what the bloody hell is going on," Dellis complained. "What was that and how did I seal it?"

"It was a rift into the fade," the elf explained. "It is one of many such rifts that have appeared since the Breach was opened."

"Solas theorized that you may have the power to seal the rifts, and ultimately the Breach," Cassandra continued, still sneering at the dwarf.

"We better get the hero here to the Breach, then," Varric suggested with a wry smile.

"This is not your fight, Varric," Cassandra replied dismissively.

"Your soldiers down in the valley aren't in control anymore," Varric returned with a slight frown. "You need all the help you can get, Seeker."

With a disgusted noise Cassandra conceded his point and waved dismissively at the dwarf. "Come," Solas suggested. "We should regroup at the forward camp. It is not far."

Dellis followed the motley group down the winding mountain path. The hike was blissfully uneventful, and they reached the forward camp without further delay. Cassandra pushed ahead as she noticed two figures arguing in the distance. Dellis recognized one of them as the shadowy woman from the prison. The other, a man, was unfamiliar.

"The prisoner should be taken to Val Royeaux to be tried and executed!" the man shouted as the group approached.

"Chancellor Roderick, we need him," Leliana returned with fierce determination in her eyes. "He may be the only one who can stop this."

"You, Seeker," the man said, ignoring Leliana. "As grand chancellor of the Chantry I order you to arrest this man at once."

"You, order me?" Cassandra snarled before Dellis could protest. "You are a glorified clerk! A bureaucrat."

"And you are a thug--"

"We serve the Most Holy, Chancellor," Leliana interrupted, "as you well know."

"Justinia is _dead_ ," the chancellor snapped.

"I'm standing right here," Dellis grumbled with annoyance. "Isn't closing the Breach more important than bickering over whether or not I should be hanged?"

"This is your doing, prisoner!" Roderick accused before turning his attention back to Cassandra. "Call a retreat, Seeker. Our position here is hopeless."

"We must stop this, here and now," Cassandra refused.

"How do you plan to do that?" the chancellor asked. "You'll never survive the trek to the temple, even with all your soldiers."

"Go through the mountains," Leliana suggested. "Our forces can charge as a distraction to cover your movements."

"It's too risky," Cassandra said, shaking her head. "We lost contact with an entire squad on that path."

"Maybe we can help them then," Dellis suggested with a nervous smile. Cassandra furrowed her brow, but made no further objection.

"He's right," Leliana pushed.

"Fine," Cassandra finally relented. "Bring everyone left in the valley. _Everyone_."

"You did the right thing," Varric said quietly as they followed Cassandra and Solas toward the mountain path.

"I was worried for a moment she might literally bite my head off," Dellis replied with a smirk. "She seems the aggressive sort."

"You'll get use to the Seeker," Varric chuckled. "Underneath that murderous exterior she's all tulips and daisies."

"Rashvine, more like," Dellis suggested. Cassandra turned to glare as she heard them chuckling.

"Right behind you, Seeker," Varric promised with his trademark smile. He put a hand up next to his mouth to muffle the sound. "I'm pretty sure she can kill you with just her eyes."

Dellis smiled as the group approached what looked to be an abandoned mining complex. A maze of ladders snaked up the side of the cliff face, leaving his arms and legs aching as they finally reached the top. Inside several demons awaited them, but with Solas's magic and Varric's crossbow neither he nor Cassandra had much to do. Dellis found himself filled with a surprising appreciation for the apostate's skills, both in combat as well as at diffusing the Seeker.

Dellis had heard tales of the Seekers of Truth, even in the alleyways of Denerim. The stories told of a fierce order of warriors who answered only to the Divine herself and existed both to keep the templars in check as well as to succeed where the templar order might fail. As such, templars feared them, as did mages. Many of the stories were exaggerated, he was sure. Even so, Dellis knew it would be wise to try and stay on the Seeker's good side, if that were even possible.

For whatever reason, Cassandra seemed to hold great respect for the elven apostate. It seemed strange, considering even Circle mages were regarded with distrust by both the Seekers and the Templar Order.

Having overheard some of their conversation, Dellis gathered that Solas had volunteered his assistance after the Breach had appeared, turning himself over to Chantry forces in an act of good faith. Cassandra had resisted at first, but when his skills had proven invaluable she had relented and come to appreciate the elf.

"How long was I unconscious after the explosion?" Dellis asked as they walked along the frigid mountain path toward the remnants of the Temple of Sacred Ashes.

"Several days," Solas answered him casually. "The appearance of the mark undoubtedly greatly distressed your body."

"That's his way of saying he kept the mark from killing you in your sleep," Varric mused.

"Another rift ahead," Cassandra announced, bringing her shield to bear. Dellis pulled the sword from his belt as Cassandra moved ahead of the group, ready to distract as many of the demons as possible.

Dellis dashed in behind Cassandra as demons poured from the rift. He brought the blade forward as a shade materialized behind the Seeker, ending its flanking attempt before it started. The now familiar thud of Varric's crossbow releasing bolt after bolt gave him a moment to breathe as he sought out his next target. Cassandra had since charged toward the soldiers corned on the far side of the rift. It seemed they had found the missing patrol.

The ground suddenly began to churn as green tendrils lashed out from the rift and arced toward Dellis’s feet. He was suddenly thrown only his back as a demon erupted from the ground below him. It crawled and scraped as it emerged, revealing itself to be twice the height of a man with long spindly fingers and a chitinous body. It screamed as it reached its full height, sending a chill down Dellis's spine that was so intense he couldn’t will himself to move.

"Watch out, jailbird!" Varric shouted, aiming at the demon and releasing a single bolt. The projectile cut through the air and found its mark in the demon's chest, giving Dellis the jolt he needed to scrabble to his feet. The demon was barely phase by the attack, though it certainly seemed angry.

"Maker's balls, what _is_ that?"

"Terror demon," Solas explained curtly, twirling his staff and engulfing the three in a blue energy barrier. "Very strong. Very problematic."

"I've got this," Dellis assured him, regaining his composure and rushing back toward the demon.

"Keep your wits about you!" Solas shouted after him.

The demon's attention was still drawn to Varric. Dellis took the opportunity to press his attack, knowing that if the terror demon did remain fixated on the dwarf, there would be no stopping it from turning Varric into a smear on the stone.

Using the demon’s distraction to his advantage, Dellis sprinted toward the creature and quickly dropped to his knees, sliding between the terror demon's legs and reaching out with his blade. The demon howled in anger as it turned its attention toward Dellis, allowing Varric a moment to breathe and reload his crossbow. Dellis jumped back as the demon reached out a clawed hand, but underestimated the reach of its lanky arms.

Dellis caught the blow in his gut, sending him flying back several meters. He crashed to the rocky ground with a thud, groaning in pain as he tried to will himself to his feet. The demon howled menacingly at him as it approached, ignoring the handful of bolts stuck in its side. Solas's magic also seemed to have no effect.

Just as Dellis had given up hope of escape, Cassandra plowed into the terror demon shield first, pinning it to the ground with a loud grunt. "Seal the rift!" she barked, holding the demon down with all of her weight. It screeched in protest, reaching out with its arms to try to dislodge her to no avail.

After a moment of hesitation, Dellis broke off toward the rift at as quick a run as he could muster. A few demons remained, pitted in desperate battle against the handful of remaining soldiers. As he rushed toward the rift, Dellis reached out his hand. The bright green light flared yet again and energy streamed from his palm toward the crystalline rift. After a moment's exertion he ripped his hand backward, detonating and sealing the rift and banishing the remaining demons. He heard a crash behind him as the terror demon vaporized and Cassandra dropped to the ground below on top of her shield.

"Thank you for the daring rescue, Seeker," Dellis smirked, holding his hand out to help her up. He was fairly certain he saw her roll her eyes as she ignored his gesture, pushing herself to her feet and reclaiming her shield.

"Lieutenant, make for the Breach," Cassandra ordered. One of the nearby soldiers thanked her profusely before bowing and heading off toward the temple.

"We should make haste," Solas suggested, pointing in the same direction the soldiers had just headed. "The Breach grows larger with each passing moment."

"Don't remind me," Dellis mumbled, flexing his hand as another flare took hold. He was quickly learning to block the worst of the pain, but Cassandra's words still rang clear in his mind. He was certain she was right; the Breach was killing him.

Cassandra lead the party to what was left of the Temple of Sacred Ashes. As Dellis followed her through a large archway, he saw the largest rift he had yet to witness, though there no demons in sight. It hovered above what he assumed had once been the main amphitheater of the temple.

"This was the first rift," Solas explained as they approached. "It is possible that if we seal this rift we seal the Breach."

"Cassandra!" a voice called from behind them. Dellis turned to see Leliana approaching with a handful of soldiers. He wasn’t entirely sure why, but Dellis was pleased to see that Leliana had survived the trek to the temple. She, at least, had never tried to kill him. At least not yet.

"Leliana, thank the Maker you made it safely," Cassandra breathed with a sigh of relief.

"We are ready for whatever is next," Leliana assured her.

"Come," Cassandra ordered. "We must find a way down to the rift."

Dellis followed the Seeker along the rubble-filled pathway leading to the main chamber where the rift awaited them. Cassandra moved slower than usual, as if she were dreading ending the nightmare that was the Breach. Dellis wondered if perhaps she simply thought it impossible that he might be able to seal it. He wasn’t sure he believed it either.

"What if this doesn't work?" Dellis finally asked.

"Then we find another way," Cassandra replied, continuing without looking back.

"What if there isn't a way?"

"Be quiet, thief."

"Thief?" he asked with a chuckle. "I admit that I'm sure a gathering of mages and templars had plenty of value to steal but really, Seeker, you give me too much credit."

Cassandra said nothing as she continued to lead them toward the rift. She stopped short as a disembodied voice broke the silence.

_Now is the hour of our victory. Bring forth the sacrifice._

"What... is that?" she asked, looking around frantically for the source.

"I expect it is whoever created the Breach," Solas offered, prompting a laugh from Varric.

"Master of the obvious, Chuckles." Varric's smile instantly faded as his eyes fell on a red crystalline substance jutting from the wall ahead of them. "That's red lyrium, Seeker," he said, as if the statement had some special significance to Cassandra.

"I see it, Varric," she gruffly replied.

"But what is it _doing_ here?" Varric pushed. "I don't like this..."

_Someone, help me!_

Cassandra literally seemed to jump out of her skin at the sound of the new voice.

_Someone, help me!_

_What's going on here?_

Dellis flinched as he heard his own voice speaking words he did not remember uttering.

A burst of energy from his hand interrupted the oncoming conversation as the rift pulsed with life. A black fog shrouded the room, congealing into the figures of several individuals. One Dellis clearly recognized as himself. The other he assumed was Divine Justinia.

_Run while you can! Warn them!_

Dellis’s brow furrowed as he realized that the Divine had been addressing _him_ , of all people.

"You _were_ there!" Cassandra shouted, turning to him angrily. "Most Holy called out to you. _Why?"_

"I don't remember!" he reminded her, holding his hands up defensively. "Believe me, Seeker, I wish I did."

"It is an echo of what transpired," Solas offered as the images dissipated. "This rift is not sealed, but it is closed. I believe the prisoner can open the rift so that it can be sealed safely."

"Uh, won't that invite some friends we'd rather not deal with?" Varric asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It is unavoidable," Solar replied.

"Stand ready!" Cassandra shouted at the soldiers. She turned her gaze back to Dellis and nodded. With a heavy sigh, he reached out his hand and connected with the rift. It writhed and sparked and suddenly a massive beam shot out. Dellis blinked as he stared eye to eye with a pride demon.

"Well... that's shite." Dellis had mere moments to move before the pride demon roared and came barreling toward him. With its greater mass, it did not have the precision needed to follow his quick movements and Dellis was able to scramble to relative safety as the archers regained enough of their composure to open fire. Even Cassandra seemed to be at a loss for how to fight such a monstrosity.

"The rift!" Solas shouted over the sounds of battle. "Disrupt it and you may weaken the demon!"

Dellis dashed as close to the rift as he could and reached out his hand. Nothing happened. _I'm too far away_ , he thought to himself with a frown. His eyes traced along the floor to a large outcropping of wall that seemed close enough to the rift. He immediately set to work scaling the wall.

"What are you doing?" Cassandra shouted as she attempted to evade the demon.

"Rescuing _you_ this time, Seeker," Dellis returned, reaching the top of the wall and reaching out again toward the rift. With a satisfied pulse, the green tendril shot out from his palm and briefly detonated the rift, eliciting a pained bellow from the pride demon beneath.

Dellis became concerned when the demon's gazed fixed squarely on his position. He wasn't sure if demons had feelings, beyond those they were named for, but he was certain he saw a burning hot rage in the creature’s eyes. It rushed for the wall, slamming its massive shoulder into the already crumbling edifice. Dellis had only moments to react as the entire structure collapsed. He did the first thing he could think of. He jumped onto the pride demon’s back.

"Andraste's ass, human!" Varric shouted, his eyes wide as saucers. "You are _riding_ that pride demon!"

"Maker's balls," Dellis hissed, latching on to one of the demon's massive horns. The creature bucked and screeched as it tried to dislodge him.

"Maker preserve us," Cassandra sputtered in exasperation as she tried to gain the demon's attention by hacking vainly at one of its armored legs.

"It is weakened," Solas called up to Dellis. "Seal the rift and you will destroy the demon!"

"Easy for you to say!" Dellis exclaimed in return as he was nearly thrown off of the creature. Securing his grip on the bucking demon, Dellis extended his arm and gritted his teeth. He heard a loud wail from the demon as the rift burst and everything went dark.


	2. Small Beginnings

"You know, Jailbird? I never thanked you," Varric said as he sat with Dellis in the Haven tavern.

"For what?" Dellis asked, raising his mug to signal the tavern keeper for a refill.

"For riding that pride demon," Varric returned with a chuckle, "and finally proving to Seeker Cassandra that most of my story of the Champion was completely believable."

Dellis laughed so hard he nearly spilled his newly refilled mug. It had been several days since the events at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, most of which Dellis had spent unconscious.

As Varric told it, when Dellis had sealed the rift, the shockwave had been much larger than any of the others, launching him from his precarious position atop the pride demon and knocking him cold for two days. As soon as he had awoken, Cassandra had dragged him to the Chantry and unwillingly inducted him into the Inquisition. He had tried to argue, but Cassandra simply insisted that he was necessary and thus the choice was made _for_ him.

For some reason it had fallen to Dellis and Varric to the spend the entire day in the Frostback foothills scavenging for elfroot and other herbs the alchemist insisted were absolutely vital for the success of the Inquisition. Varric had tried to suggest that Solas be conscripted for the task, but the apostate claimed he had other pressing business to attend to, and the so the two rogues took a romp through the snow alone.

"I swear my boots are soaked through," Varric complained into his mug. "How elfroot even grows in the snow is anyone's guess."

"I'd rather not guess," Dellis joked. "By the way, you're going to have to find me a new nickname."

"Why's that?" Varric inquired.

"I'd rather not give our Seeker friend any more reminders that she wanted to stab me," Dellis explained with a smirk. "Besides, I think you're losing your creative touch."

Varric gave a hearty laugh. "I'll see what I can do for you."

"Don't get into any trouble without me," Dellis ordered with a lopsided smirk as he drained his mug and got up from the table. His dwarven companion nodded as Dellis turned to leave. After his foray into the wilds he hoped to get a few hours of sleep before some new crisis reared its head.

"Herald, a moment."

Dellis sighed a little too loudly as he saw Seeker Cassandra waiting for him just outside the tavern, watching him expectantly. _So much for that_ nap, he thought. Dellis had not spoken to Cassandra outside the company of the rest of the Inquisition since he had been inducted as the Herald of Andraste, and he had been dreading whatever awkward conversation they might have.

"It's Dellis," he corrected. She crossed her arms, staring at him sternly. "My name," he explained. "It's Dellis, not Herald."

"I am aware," Cassandra replied in an even tone. "I hoped we might talk a moment."

"One whole moment?" Dellis asked with smirk. She glared and pointed toward Haven's gates. "Don't tell me you're taking me out back to put me out of my misery."

"You should be so lucky," Cassandra returned with a slight laugh, prompting Dellis to raise an eyebrow.

"You do have a sense of humor," he noted with a crooked grin. "And here I had thought you were actually a golem."

"Don't make me regret speaking to you, Thief."

"What exactly is it you think I stole?" Dellis asked her sincerely. "You keep calling me thief." Cassandra said nothing. "I suppose if you give me enough time I could probably steal Leliana's heart.

"Unlikely," Cassandra laughed. "You are lucky you are the Herald of Andraste else I might rethink sparing your life."

"It's a name," Dellis replied with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Do you not believe it?" Cassandra asked as they stepped through the gate.

"Do _you_?" Dellis countered, satisfied to see the conflicted expression on her face. "You say that survivors saw me burst from the fade with Andraste herself behind me. I remember none of it. It sounds awfully far-fetched."

"Whatever you are, I will not claim that you were not exactly what we needed exactly when we needed it," Cassandra declared as they walked through the gate. Dozens of soldiers littered the area outside Haven's walls, practicing drills or cleaning their weapons. Dellis could see Commander Cullen pacing amidst them, barking orders and waving his hands in an overly animated fashion. Dellis assumed the training exercises were not going quite as planned.

"Clearly, I'm just lucky," he replied sarcastically.

"I understand that you do not wish to be here," Cassandra returned, "however you would not be safe elsewhere. All of Thedas knows you as the killer of Most Holy."

"I didn't kill her," Dellis insisted, annoyed.

"I know," Cassandra admitted after a moment, lowering her head slightly.

"You-- You do?" Dellis faltered, surprised to hear the Seeker acknowledge his innocence.

Cassandra nodded with a sigh. "I believe I may have... misjudged you."

"That sounded painful to admit," Dellis smirked, his amusement fading at her immediate glare. "I'm sorry. I'm sure there was a reason you brought me out here."

"Yes," Cassandra agreed, regaining her composure. "I wanted to address your swordsmanship."

"Why what now?"

"Your swordplay at the Temple of Sacred Ashes was weak, at best," she explained. "You will be in danger if you do not improve."

"My swordplay is poor because I'm not a swordsman," Dellis told her with a chuckle. "It's not exactly my weapon of choice."

"You have a weapon of choice?" Cassandra asked with a hint of amusement. Dellis gave her a subtle glower before pointing to a weapons rack full of bows. "You are an archer?"

"That's putting it formally, but yes," Dellis agreed, walking to the rack and picking up a shortbow and a single arrow. "I'm more of a sniper."

"I see," she replied skeptically.

"You need evidence, I understand," Dellis said with his characteristic smirk. "What shall I shoot?"

Cassandra raised an eyebrow. "The gargoyle," she ordered, pointing to a statue above the gate.

"You're joking," Dellis laughed. "Even _you_ could hit that."

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?" she glared.

Dellis pointed toward the trebuchet in the distance. In front of it was a wood panel with a crudely-painted version of the Inquisition logo. "I will bullseye that logo."

"From here?" she scoffed. "Impossible."

"Watch me," he returned with a smile, nocking the arrow and pulling back the string. As he released it, the arrow shot forward with impressive speed, cleaving through tree branches and arcing directly toward the trebuchet. Dellis watched with a smile as the Seeker's face slacked in shock when the arrow pierced the Inquisition logo dead center.

"How did you...?"

"I'm a sniper," Dellis reminded her.

"Very well," Cassandra replied, straightening her jacket. "I will have you outfitted with the necessary equipment before we next venture away from Haven."

"Yes, Madame Leader," Dellis returned with the most sarcastic salute he could muster. She snorted at him in disgust and waved him away.

Dellis happily trotted off back toward the encampment, eager to be away from the Seeker's piercing gaze.

* * *

Cassandra sighed deeply as she gazed down at the Inquisition's war table, now littered with pins representing various objectives they hoped to secure. She would never admit it, but she was completely overwhelmed. Despite her impassioned declaration to Chancellor Roderick, Cassandra knew she could not possibly lead the Inquisition. Not forever, anyway. She was skilled at making war and serving, but leading was not a thing she could or wanted to do.

"You must let go of this," a voice echoed from the hallway. Cassandra looked up to see Leliana closing the door behind her and approaching the war table.

"I do not know your meaning," Cassandra replied dismissively, returning her gaze to the war table.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," Leliana continued. "You're hurt. I understand, but you cannot take it out on the Herald."

"Justinia's death hurt us both," Cassandra reminded her, continuing to peruse the numerous pins below them.

"You know I am not speaking of Most Holy," Leliana accused, her tone flat and even. Cassandra visibly flinched, eliciting a sigh from her companion. "I know you did not want me to know but as spymaster I must _know_ the members of the Inquisition."

Cassandra breathed in slowly, her teeth grinding and her hands clenched in fists. Leliana was right, she knew. She had let her personal feelings affect the way she behaved during the assault on the Breach, and it was beneath her.

Cassandra could not help but feel violated that Leliana had used her spy network to find out about her past, but she was not surprised and did not blame her. In fact, she would not have been surprised if Leliana had known these secrets for years.

"I will try," Cassandra agreed with no small measure of reluctance. She pointed to a pin on the map raising her gaze to meet Leliana’s. "Our runners tell me a mother of the chantry, Mother Giselle, has taken refuge in the Crossroads, near Redcliffe."

"Ah yes, Mother Giselle," Leliana purred in response, walking the room thoughtfully. "I am familiar with her. With the right push she could be an asset to the Inquisition."

"Send your agents," Cassandra suggested.

"No," Leliana returned, her brow furrowed. "My agents will not be enough. The Herald must go."

Cassandra stood to her full height and looked at the other women incredulously. "The Herald?" she repeated. "A man you tell me is nothing but a common thief, and a Fereldan no less."

Leliana clucked chidingly. "And what is wrong with Fereldans?" she asked, her arms crossed.

Cassandra's stony expression softened, her lips slipping into a smile. She knew full well that Leliana was spoken for by the Hero of Ferelden, a man whose courage and heroism would be enough to gain even Cassandra's respect, had they been able to locate him, but just like the Champion he had vanished without a trace.

"Nothing, I suppose," she admitted with the slightest hint of a smile. It faded as quickly as it had appeared. "I do not see how the Herald can help with this matter. He is-"

"Our best chance," Leliana finished for her. "Heroes can be born from the humblest of origins."

"You do not need to remind me of the tale of the Champion," she scoffed, rubbing her fingers in circles at her temple to stave away her growing headache. "Varric has done well enough several times already and I would not wish to subject myself to it again."

"You should take the Herald to see Mother Giselle," Leliana suggested with a smile.

"Yes, yes," Cassandra replied with a dismissive wave of her gloved hand, her headache worsening as the spymaster left her alone in the war room. Everything about the Herald grated her nerves. He was of low birth and it was painfully obvious. While she felt confident that he had not caused the events at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, she was equally sure that it did not require her to enjoy his company.

With a loud sigh she moved to the edge of the war room where she had left her sword and shield. She picked the sword up and slid it into its sheath before slinging the shield onto her back. Several priests quickly moved out of her path as she nearly stormed out of the Chantry.

* * *

The trip had taken several hours by horse, nearly all of which was filled the most painful silence Dellis had ever endured in his life. Cassandra had burst into the small tavern as if the world were ending, insisting that he and Varric join her immediately. Dellis had not even been allowed to finish his drink.

After outfitting him with minimum necessary combat gear, Cassandra had explained that his presence was required as the Herald of Andraste. They were to ride toward Redcliffe, to a small village known as the Crossroads, where a Revered Mother named Giselle awaited them. She had apparently asked to speak with the Herald of Andraste specifically. Dellis was not looking forward to the meeting.

"...and don't say anything sacrilegious." Cassandra had been instructing him on the proper etiquette for addressing a Revered Mother for the better part of an hour. Truthfully Dellis had stopped paying attention almost entirely, heeding her words just enough to nod at the appropriate moments.

"You know, we won't all catch fire if I say something wrong," Dellis reminded her as their horses trotted along side by side. She snorted in disgust.

"The fate of Inquisition hangs in the balance of what you do or not say to Mother Giselle," Cassandra explained. "The least I can do is ensure that you do not _offend_ her."

"Are you sure you're not worried about him offending _you?_ " Varric asked from behind them. Cassandra ignored him, though Dellis was sure he saw her lip twitch.

"I'm sure Seeker Cassandra is concerned only with the success of the Inquisition," Solas offered diplomatically, as he usually did. Dellis smiled for a moment when Cassandra's features began to mellow. Solas always had a way to remind her of duty, and it never failed to diffuse whatever anger was boiling beneath her armor.

"There," Cassandra announced, pointing ahead of them. Through the trees Dellis could see what appeared to be an Inquisition banner fluttering in the breeze. He could also see refugees in the distance, but they appeared to be running.

"Templars," Solas shouted, swiftly dismounting his horse and readying his staff. Cassandra was already on foot, sword and shield at the ready.

"Why would they attack us?" Dellis asked, regretting the question immediately as an arrow whizzed past his head. Without further delay he leapt down off the horse. As he regained his footing he pulled his bow out of the sheath on his saddle and plucked an arrow from the quiver.

Dellis watched as a templar knight plowed shield-first into Cassandra. Despite her size and skill, she was nearly bowed over. After a moment's hesitation, Dellis lined up a shot and released the arrow, sending it sailing toward the templar. He smiled to himself as the arrow punched right through the chainmail protecting the man's neck, sending him writhing to the ground.

As Dellis turned he could see Solas busy weaving intricate barriers around the group to protect them from enemy magic. In the moments since engaging the templars they had been flanked by a group of apostates. It was clear they had wandered into the middle of a battlefield, and with both Solas and Cassandra with them they were likely mistaken for enemies by both sides. Or perhaps both sides were simply indiscriminate in their targets. Regardless, they now had enemies both ahead and behind.

"We're flanked, Seeker," Varric shouted as he reloaded Bianca.

"I can see that," Cassandra growled, pushing forward into a templar knight and knocking him off balance. With a quick and efficient thrust she speared the soldier through the abdomen, leaving him jerking in the grass, before moving on to her next target. Dellis had to give her credit. She was a machine built for war, and her skill was impressive.

Dellis pulled another arrow from his quiver and quickly snapped off a shot at a mage attempting to overcome Solas. The arrow sailed into the woman's chest, sending her soaring backwards as Solas hurled a fireball to finish her and her companion.

"I think that is all of them," Cassandra announced, a hint of fatigue in her otherwise unwavering voice.

"I wonder if it's like this everywhere," Dellis asked aloud, placing the bow back in its sheath and grabbing his horse's reigns. The group walked the horses the rest of the way to the Crossroads to avoid spooking them any further.

As they approached, Dellis could see Inquisition scouts moving between hovels and groups of soldiers. He could vaguely make out what appeared to be the Revered Mother among a group of the injured. She seemed to be in deep conversation with one of the wounded soldiers.

"Come," Cassandra ordered, motioning for one of the soldiers stationed there to take the horses. The three followed the Seeker toward the injured, but were stopped by one of the soldiers.

"This is the Herald of Andraste?" one of them asked, not hiding his contempt.

"That would be me," Dellis confirmed, earning a glare from the soldier as well as Cassandra.

"Mother Giselle wishes to speak to the Herald," the soldier said, putting a hand up to block her as Cassandra took a step forward. "Alone."

Cassandra turned toward Dellis, her expression somewhere between bewilderment and rage. He said nothing, but moved quickly when she motioned him on.

"Why does she want to speak to me alone?" Dellis asked the soldier once they were out of earshot.

"How should I know?" the man replied, rolling his eyes. "Mother Giselle is just over there. We're watching you, _Herald."_

Dellis approached the woman slowly. Despite not having spent much time in Chantries over the years, even Dellis could easily recognize the Revered Mother by her long robe and squared-off headdress. She turned as she heard his footsteps, smiling and standing to greet him.

"You must be the one they are calling Herald of Andraste," she said with a warm smile. Her accent was heavily Orlesian, but easy enough to understand. Dellis sighed in relief. Half the time he couldn't tell what Orlesians were actually saying.

"Alas, not a title I chose myself," Dellis replied, bowing slightly as Cassandra had very strongly recommended.

The Revered Mother smiled, bowing her head in respect. "I am glad that you came, Herald."

"Why _did_ you ask for me?" Dellis asked, his brow furrowed in confusion. "I'm just an unlucky man that was in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Or perhaps the right place at the right time," she proposed in contrast, motioning for him to walk with her. He followed as they walked through the camp. Dellis was afraid to look behind him to see how horrified Cassandra was. Varric was no doubt enjoying himself.

"I don't understand why you asked me here," Dellis said after a moment. "I thought the Chantry denounced me."

"They are afraid of you," Giselle explained. "To be honest, some are grandstanding, hoping that their position against you will increase their chances of being named the next Divine."

Dellis scratched his head. "So, _you_ don't think I'm a heathen?"

He was surprised to hear Mother Giselle laugh at the comment. "You do not look to be a heathen or a demon, however the clerics have heard nothing but frightful tales of you," she explained. "You must convince them."

"Just... convince them?" Dellis asked, raising an eyebrow. "Do you think it's that easy?"

"You need not convince them all," Mother Giselle explained. "Seed doubt among the clerics and they will no longer stand against you as a unified voice."

"And you think that will work?"

She smiled warmly at him. "I truly do not know if you are the Maker's chosen but I have hope, and hope is what the people need most."

"I don't know if I'm the right person to be the role model of Thedas," Dellis laughed.

"You are one of the people," Giselle reminded him. "You are not a noble to which they cannot relate, and that will work in your favor."

"I hadn't thought of it that way." Dellis stopped walking, prompting Mother Giselle to stop as well. "Why are you helping? I'm just a commoner, and not even a very good Andrastian."

"Right now, you are the best hope for our salvation," she told him, placing a hand on his arm. "I will go to Haven and assist Leliana once I have completed my work here. It is not much, but it will be a start."

"Thank you," Dellis smiled. She nodded and turned her attention back toward the injured. Dellis quickly made his way back to the party, satisfied to see that Cassandra wasn’t glaring at him any more severely than usual.

"Please tell me you did not embarrass the Inquisition overmuch."

"I did fine," he assured her. "She'll come to Haven shortly."

"I'm impressed, Killer," Varric mused.

"That's the best you can do?" Dellis mused with a wry grin.

Varric rolled his eyes. "Everyone's a critic."

Cassandra snorted in disgust. "Come, we should return to Haven immediately and plan our next course of action."

"Yes ma'am," Dellis said with another mock salute, walking to his horse as Cassandra shook her head at him.

"As much fun as I'm having," Varric told him quietly, "you might want to tone it down before you she gets a mind to punch you."

Dellis smiled in return, a mischievous look in his eye. "She'd have to catch me first."


	3. Growing the Inquisition

Upon their return to Haven, Dellis and Varric had immediately disappeared, likely to the tavern. Cassandra had ignored them as usual, making her way to the Chantry where Leliana and Mother Giselle no doubt awaited her.

Their return to Haven had been delayed at the request of the people of the Crossroads. The refugees had insisted upon the Inquisition’s help, and despite her eagerness to return and plan their next move, Cassandra knew that acts of good will toward the people would only strengthen their position when they did eventually confront the Chantry itself.

"Ah, there you are," Leliana greeted her as Cassandra burst through the Chantry doors.

"You have been waiting for me?" Cassandra asked as they walked together toward the war room.

"Yes," Leliana confirmed with a nod. "My discussions with Mother Giselle have been most enlightening. I believe we can plant seeds of doubts within the clerics, however to do so we must travel to Val Royeaux."

"You want me to take the Herald to the capital of Orlais?" Cassandra asked with a chuckle. "We are as likely to be attacked outright as we are to be ignored completely."

The two pushed through the war room doors. Josephine Montilyet, the Inquisition's newly appointed diplomat, and Cullen Rutherford, former templar and commander of the Inquisition's forces, awaited them patiently.

"Cassandra, it is good to see you returned unscathed," Cullen said with a smile as she approached the war table.

"We believe we have a plan to see you and the Herald safely to Val Royeaux, but it will take some time," Josephine reported.

"Indeed," Leliana nodded. "Between your accomplishments in the hinterlands and those of my agents, I believe we can seed enough dissension within the clerics to allow you passage without fear of attack."

"You said it will take time," Cassandra repeated, turning her attention to Josephine. "How much time, exactly?"

The younger woman blushed slightly at Cassandra's stony gaze. "Several days, perhaps. It is difficult to tell precisely."

"Very well," Cassandra nodded. She turned to Cullen. "Commander, what do you recommend we do while we wait?"

Cullen rubbed a hand across his jaw as he considered her question. "I'm not certain there are any tasks that demand your personal attention, Seeker, however I could use your assistance training the recruits." He paused for a moment, a look of annoyance slipping onto his normally calm face. "They're not doing as well as I had hoped."

"Very well," she said with a nod to Cullen. "Leliana, Josephine, see to the preparations. Advise me immediately when we may proceed to Val Royeaux."

* * *

Dellis sat alone in the tavern, nursing his third mug of ale. Varric had kept him company for a bit, but had eventually retired for some reason or another. In hindsight, Dellis realized he hadn’t been paying much attention to his companion before Varric had left. He still couldn't get Mother Giselle's words out of his head.

The fact that he couldn't remember anything from the last several weeks still bothered Dellis greatly. He knew that the trek from Denerim to Haven was no small feat, nor a short one for that matter. It would take at least several days to travel that distance, and Dellis remembered nothing of it, nor any reason he might have to travel that far from the capital of Ferelden. None of it made any sense.

"What's on your mind, sweet thing?" a voice purred from above him. Dellis broke away from his thoughts to see the tavern’s bard standing before him. He had not even noticed the music had stopped.

Dellis chuckled lightly as she took a seat next to him. "Oh, you know. Contemplating life."

"That sounds awfully boring," she replied with a wink, waving over the barkeep.

"My life?" Dellis repeated. "Almost certainly." He paused for a moment, taking a sip of his mug. "You're one of Leliana's agents?"

The bard raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Very astute of you, Herald."

Dellis grinned smugly. "You have a pair of daggers stuck in your boots, and I can't imagine what a minstrel would need with those."

"There’s more to you than meets the eye, Herald," she said with a laugh, accepting her ale from the barkeep. "My name is Maryden."

"Pleasure to meet you, Maryden," Dellis said with a smile. "Just call me Dellis. I still haven't yet wrapped my head around this whole Herald of Andraste nonsense."

"Very well, Dellis," she said with a smile. "Not enjoying life with the Inquisition, then?"

Dellis laughed lightly. "I just feel a bit out of place is all."

"Yes, I imagine being surrounded by Seekers and templars and bards must be rather trying," Maryden returned, taking a sip from her mug. "Although I have heard rumors regarding your prowess with a bow. Are you sure _you_ are not a bard?"

"You clearly haven't heard me sing," Dellis said, straight faced. He held the expression for a moment before they both broke into laughter.

"You're alright, Dellis," Maryden said with a smile, draining her mug and picking up her instrument. "Now I must return to my bardly duties."

"You mean spying while pretending to play the lute?" Dellis asked quietly with a wink.

"I don't pretend to play," Maryden returned with a mischievous smile.

* * *

As the group stepped into Val Royeaux, Dellis immediately felt completely out of place. Denerim was not a shabby city, by any means, but compared to Val Royeaux the royal palace might as well have been a shack. Val Royeaux looked about as he had pictured it, filled with sculptures and gold and everything possible to make him feel as though he should immediately turn around and leave.

The four walked together through the bustling streets. As they moved deeper into the city, Dellis could see Orlesian nobles staring at him, and a few actually shied away and fled. He wasn’t sure what he found more disturbing: the fact that they were fleeing, or that they even recognized him in the first place.

"Are you sure we're safe here?" Dellis asked quietly.

Cassandra hesitated a moment. "No, but Leliana's agents have taken great care to disseminate more positive rumors about the Inquisition and you in particular."

"So, you're hoping the people are too confused to attack our dear Herald here?" Varric asked, prompting a sneer from the Seeker.

"I'm sure we'll be fine," Dellis interrupted before Cassandra could reply. He hoped his voice sounded confident, since he was not, but he tried not to worry. He had seen Cassandra in battle and knew that the chances she could protect them, even should be an altercation, were high.

His confidence waned as they entered the market courtyard. Even Cassandra seemed to balk when she saw the small group of templars standing before a crowd of Royans.

"The templars have returned to Val Royeaux," Solas said, though it sounded more like a question than a statement.

The group approached quietly from the back of the crowd as a Revered Mother spoke before the people. "Together we mourn the loss of our Divine. Most Holy was a pure and beautiful heart, taken from us too soon by means of betrayal and treachery.

"The Chantry mourns, just as you do. Fear not, believers, for Most Holy's murderer is delivered to us today," the mother continued, pointing a finger directly at Dellis. His entire body tensed, instinctively stepping backward as the crowd turned to face them. He felt Cassandra's firm hand in the middle of back, holding him in place and keeping him from faltering any further.

"I killed no one!" Dellis shouted, regaining his confidence.

"You claim to be the Herald of Andraste," the mother accused. "We say you are false prophet!"

"I am here to help end the threat of the Breach," Dellis returned with a hint of snarl. "I have claimed to be no prophet and have no interest in upsetting your precious Chantry."

"He speaks the truth," Cassandra affirmed, stepping forward. "The Inquisition seeks to end this madness before it is too late!"

"It is already too late," the Revered Mother spat, pointing behind her. The sound of armor clattering betrayed the templars’ arrival before they could be seen rounding the corner into the market. "The templars have returned to the Chantry and will protect the people from your Inquisition."

Cassandra could not hide her expression of surprise as the much larger group of templars appeared before them. They were led by an older man, a scowl on his face as he approached the Revered Mother. "You will be _silent_ , woman," he snarled. One of the younger templars stirred, but the older man raised a hand to silence him.

"Lord Seeker Lucius," Cassandra called, leaving Dellis's side and pushing through the crowd. "It is imperative that we speak with--"

"You will not address me!" Lucius barked, stopping Cassandra dead in her tracks.

"Lord Seeker?" she asked, the confusion in her voice plain.

"You should be _ashamed_ ," the Lord Seeker snapped. "Raising a false prophet and a heretical order. The templars failed no one when we left the Chantry. The Nevarran Accord is void and the mages must be put down. Our swords will exact righteous vengeance upon the maleficarum!"

"The Breach threatens us all," Dellis returned as Cassandra remained silent.

"Do not speak to me, Heretic," Lucius ordered, closing the distance between them and attempting to intimidate the rogue with his larger and more imposing presence. "At best you are a worm being manipulated by your betters. At worst you are a pretender to the highest calling and were circumstances different I would end you where you stand."

"But sir," the younger templar interjected as their stare down continued, "what if he _is_ the Herald of Andraste? What if it's true?"

"Silence," Lucius barked. "Do not question me." He turned toward the rest of his men. "Templars, Val Royeaux is unworthy of our protection. We march, now!"

"Well, he's a charming fellow," Varric commented as the templars disappeared from the market square.

"You called him Lord Seeker?" Dellis asked Cassandra after a moment. She hesitated before nodding in confirmation.

"Lord Seeker Lucius is the leader of the Seekers of Truth," she explained, seeming somewhat shaken. "I do not understand why he would behave this way. He was never one to be given to ambition."

"Maybe there's something we're missing," Dellis offered, expecting a glare that never came. "Can we still recover from this?"

"Ask the Revered Mother," Solas suggested. Dellis turned his attention to the woman standing behind him, looking all but defeated. She had clearly thought the templars there to support the Chantry, but having been so publicly cast down by the Lord Seeker her position with the people was precarious indeed. The crowd, Andrastian as they were, would have seen the templars' assault on the Chantry as an affront, and the only party willing to speak for them was the Inquisition.

"You have no more to fear from me," she told him dejectedly. "Any support I might have had from my own clerics is gone." She paused briefly, glancing at Dellis. "Tell me, Herald, if you truly believe yourself to be the Maker's chosen."

Dellis considered her question for a moment, knowing that if he chose the wrong words he would not only have Cassandra's wrath to face. "I honestly don't know," he finally admitted, "but I do know that the Breach needs to be sealed for the sake of all of us. If it _was_ the Maker that set me on this path, then so be it."

"That is a very honest answer," the Revered Mother told him after a moment. "Perhaps I have not given you enough credit."

"That is all I care about," Dellis assured her, pointing to swirling green mass in the sky.

"Then I wish you luck, Herald." The Revered Mother bowed and turned her attention to her clerics.

"That was well spoken," Cassandra told him as they walked toward the gates.

"For a peasant, you mean," Dellis offered with a bit of a smile. Cassandra rolled her eyes.

"Can you not even accept a simple compliment?"

Dellis opened his mouth to speak, but could not find the words. "I didn't think you were being serious," he finally told her.

Cassandra shook her head lightly. As she started to reply she was cut off by an arrow whizzing past them. She instinctively reached for her shield before Dellis grabbed her arm to stop her.

"It's a note," he assured her. As she let her sword slide back down into the sheath Varric pulled the arrow out of the flower bed where it had landed and plucked the note off the end.

"Oh boy," Varric said as he read the note. "The Friends of Red Jenny strike again!"

"You know these Friends of Red Jenny?" Cassandra asked. Dellis snickered, earning the glare he had expected to receive earlier.

"Seeker, anyone from the streets is familiar with the Friends of Red Jenny," Dellis explained.

"They're criminals, then?"

"By your standards, perhaps," Dellis remarked with a smile. He turned back to Varric. "What does it say?"

"It says they want to help us," Varric said with a measure of surprise. "The Inquisition, I mean."

Cassandra snatched the note out of the dwarf's hands before he could object. "In an alley," she read with a laugh. "This is certainly an ambush."

"Well then, I suppose you'll have to go first with that big shield of yours," Dellis suggested. "If we know it's coming it won't be so bad."

"I do not approve of this," Cassandra announced, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Well I'm going, so if you need that mark on my hand you might want to follow me," Dellis returned, taking a step past her. With an annoyed grumble she followed him.

* * *

By the time they reached the alley, the sun was beginning to set and the alleyways were dim. The perfect place _and_ the perfect setting for an ambush. Dellis gripped his bow tightly as he followed Cassandra through the narrow passages. He smiled to himself in amusement as he realized that in Val Royeaux even the alleys were nicer than most parts of Denerim.

Dellis barely had time to react when he saw Cassandra raise her shield. He ducked down to one knee beside the Seeker as an arrow flew past his head far too close for comfort, using her shield for cover, and quickly popped out to fire at the new aggressors. His own arrow whizzed past one of the thugs to strike an archer in the leg. The man screamed and dropped his bow, nursing the wound. Not a kill shot, but not the worst he could have done with such little time.

As Cassandra moved away to engage one of the mercenaries, Dellis scrambled to hide behind a nearby statue. He pulled another arrow out of his quiver and quickly snapped off a shot at a woman charging toward the Seeker. The arrow pierced her ribcage; however, the momentum of her charge could not be slowed. Cassandra realized her precarious position moments too late and the now limp body of the woman bowled her over, sending them both clattering to the cobblestone ground.

"Maker's balls," Dellis breathed to himself, realizing Cassandra was about to become a pin cushion for the remaining archers. He bolted from cover, splaying a rain of arrows toward the enemy archers as quickly as his quiver would allow. Cassandra was still struggling to push the writhing body of the injured mercenary off of her as another approached.

Without thinking, Dellis leapt forward, throwing his bow up to block the incoming sword. The blade crashed into the wooden bow, snapping the string but not severing the shaft. The mercenary faltered slightly, giving Dellis the chance to recover. He kicked out at the mercenary, catching the man in the gut and doubling him over. Meanwhile Cassandra had managed to get to her feet and gruffly pushed Dellis aside.

Dellis didn’t realize his bow had been rendered useless until he went to pull back the now severed bowstring. He quickly realized was now completely unarmed. With Solas and Varric both at range, he risked checking the nearby bodies for weapons. The archers were too far away to repurpose their bows, but he was close enough to one of the soldiers to quickly snatch a shortsword and return to the cover of the statue.

Fate would decree that the battle ended before Dellis would need to test his swordsmanship again. As the last of the mercenaries fell, he could hear the scraping of Cassandra's sword sliding back into its sheath. Dellis stood up, leaving his bow on the ground and gripping the shortsword tightly.

"Looks like the way is clear," Varric announced, slinging Bianca onto his back. The four regrouped and continued on through alley. They had but stepped into the next passage when Dellis had to duck to avoid a fireball. Cassandra quickly raised her shield to block the next.

"Herald of Andraste. How much coin did you spend to find me?" a heavily Orlesian voice called out, laughing as they approached.

"I'm sorry, am I supposed to know who you are?" Dellis asked, being sure not to reveal too much of himself from behind Cassandra's heavy shield.

"Your jests will not fool me, Herald," the man scoffed, standing about as pompously as any Royan possibly could. His posturing was interrupted by the sound of an arrow and a scream from behind him. He turned to see an elf pop up from behind a falling body, holding a bow at the ready.

"Just say what!" she shouted, aiming the bow at him.

"What do-" The Orlesian’s question was cut off by an arrow piercing his windpipe. He fell to the ground in a heap.

"Just say what," the elf repeated with a hearty laugh.

"Who are you?" Cassandra barked, her sword at the ready.

"Calm down," Dellis ordered, putting a hand on her sword arm. She reluctantly complied.

"Rich tits always try for more than they deserve," the elf laughed, ripping the arrow from the man’s throat.

"I'm sorry," Dellis said, slowly approaching. "Who are you, exactly?"

"You're the Herald, right?" she continued.

"That's what they say," Dellis replied with a nod. "And you are...? What was this all about?"

The elf shrugged, stuffing the bloody arrow back in her quiver. "No clue. My people just said the Inquisition should look at him."

"For the Maker's sake, girl, what is your name?" Cassandra growled impatiently.

"Name's Sera," the elf replied, eyeing Cassandra briefly before returning her attention to Dellis and lowering her voice. "What's got her knickers in a twist?"

Dellis chuckled at the question, much to Cassandra's chagrin. "Why did you lead us here?"

"No time," Sera announced, pointing at a group of half-naked mercenaries charging at them.

"Why aren't they wearing any pants?" Varric asked, pulling Bianca off his back.

"No breeches!" Sera cackled gleefully as she leapt away to higher ground.

Dellis gripped his sword tightly as the pantsless soldiers approached. Cassandra somehow managed to draw the attention of three of them, and though his first reaction was to help her he quickly realized there was no need. Instead he positioned himself to block a fourth.

The man rushed at him, swinging his sword savagely at the rogue's head. Dellis was able to sidestep and parry the attack, countering with a swipe at his midsection. The mercenary, clearly no tenderfoot, easily evaded it and countered with a blow that rattled Dellis's arms as he blocked it. Dellis dipped the blade toward his legs to block another attack, but his grip was compromised.

As the blades connected, Dellis lost his grasp on the hilt and the sword clattered off into a corner. He barely had time to jump back to avoid being impaled, though he felt the blade slice through the thick fabric of his jacket and burn across his skin. He pushed the pain from his mind and prepared to evade the next blow. Thankfully an arrow through his eye socket ended the threat.

"Thank you, Sera," Dellis breathed.

"Got a good tip on their equipment shed," she snorted as she jumped down from a balcony.

"And you took their breeches instead of their weapons?" Solas asked with a cocked eyebrow.

"No breeches," Sera giggled again. "So, I'd like to join up, Mister Herald of Andraste."

"Join... the Inquisition?" Dellis asked, scratching the back of his head.

"Yeah, what's it to you?" Sera countered, crossing her arms.

"Nothing, I'm just surprised," Dellis laughed. "You don't exactly seem the type."

"Neither do you," she said accusingly. "So, look, it's like this. You got a note from the Friends of Red Jenny. That's me!"

"You're Red Jenny?" Dellis asked with a snort.

"I'm one," she said with a shrug. "There was another in Kirkwall, a couple in Denerim. Three in Starkhaven. Brothers or something."

"Yeah, I remember the Friends of Red Jenny in Denerim," Dellis told her with a knowing smile. Sera's grin grew wider at the comment.

"You're from Denerim?" she asked excitedly. Her smile faded. "Not a prissy pants noble, I hope."

Dellis couldn't hold back the laugh. "No, Sera. I'm definitely no noble."

"Good," she smiled. "I think we'll get right along then. So, am I in?"

"Sure," Dellis replied with a shrug. "The more the merrier, right guys?"

"Alright then, I suppose I'll meet you back in Haven," Sera said with a grin, giving him the sloppiest mock salute possible before prancing off into the dark.

"I do not approve of this," Cassandra announced, sheathing her sword and giving him a dark look.

Dellis sighed, shaking his head at her. "No, Cassandra. Of course you don't."


	4. Just Another Day in Haven

As it turned out, Sera fit in with the Inquisition like oil in water. She was brash, crude, and had already stolen Cassandra's boots and hid them up a tree. She was an absolute monster, so of course Dellis adored her. Her presence in Haven made him feel like less of an outcast. Varric was all well and good, but with the things he had experienced in Kirkwall he had a serious streak that sometimes left Dellis at a loss for words.

"Bet I could steal Roderick's knickers," Sera snickered over her sixth pint of ale. Varric and Dellis sat across from her, shaking their heads.

"Cassandra nearly chopped your pretty head off this morning when she finally got her boots out of that tree," Varric reminded her with a sly grin.

"Watching Cassandra tromp around barefoot in the snow might have been worth losing her," Dellis chuckled, taking a swig from his mug.

"Tit," Sera grumbled between gulps.

"You know I'm joking, Cricket," Dellis chuckled. "Although the look on her face was absolutely priceless."

"Stop calling me that you bloody git," Sera growled, punching the Herald lightly in the arm. Dellis winced as he felt the sting from the wound he had received during the scuffle back in the alley in Val Royeaux. It hadn't been a grave injury, by any stretch, but it hurt all the same.

"You know, you could always have Solas or Vivienne take a look at that," Varric suggested, gesturing to Dellis's arm.

Despite the injury, which he had mostly managed to hide until they had left Val Royeaux, the group had made one additional stop before leaving Orlais. As they had tried to leave the city, a courier had stopped them and delivered an invitation to a ball. Varric had laughed for a good ten minutes at the thought of any of them attending an Orlesian ball, dressed as they were, but they had done it nonetheless and returned with a new agent for the Inquisition.

"Magic?" Dellis asked with a laugh. "No thanks."

"You're just like Buttercup here," Varric sighed, pointing at Sera.

"Magic is creepy, you arse," she growled, tossing her empty mug at him and laughing hysterically.

"Make sure she doesn't have any more," Dellis snickered, getting up and giving a mock bow.

"Hey, wait," Sera called after him. "I want to prove I'm better with a bow than you."

"What, now?" Dellis asked with a laugh. "You're sloshed."

"I'm still better'n you!" she cackled, nearly tipping over as she leapt from her chair. "C'mon ya little shite, let's have a go at it!"

Dellis nearly lost his balance as the lithe and very intoxicated little elf grabbed him by the sleeve and rather roughly hauled him out of the tavern, with Varric's laughter echoing from behind them. "I really don't think this is a good idea," Dellis complained as she grabbed their bows, thrusting his at him before jogging off. With a sigh he ran after her.

"I'll show you!" Sera giggled, hopping up onto the stone wall alone the steps leading away from the tavern and toward the city gates. She hopped on top of the mabari statue as Dellis scrabbled after her. "Oh, you can see _everything_ from up here!"

"Sera, this is a bad idea," Dellis insisted as she pulled out her bow and looked around.

"That," she announced proudly, pointing toward the Chantry. "Bet you can't hit the flag pole!"

"Bet you can't either," Dellis returned, smiling and pulling out an arrow. He lined up a shot and let the arrow loose, watching it fly straight toward the flag pole. With a loud clang the arrow hit the pole, flying off onto the Chantry roof.

"Nice one, fancy pants," Sera giggled, pulling an arrow out of her own quiver. She released it, and Dellis watched as the arrow flew straight for the flag, ripping a great hole through it. "Ha, bullseyed the eye! I win!"

"What?" Dellis asked with a snort. "That wasn't the-"

"Next!" Sera shouted, frowning slightly. "Need to be higher, yeah?"

"Sera, I don't think-," Dellis was cut off as she stood up on the mabari statue and leapt onto the roof of the nearby building. Despite his very verbal protests, the elf climbed her way to the ridge of the roof, snickering all the while.

"Wish I could see Solas from here," Sera complained. "Would love to put an arrow in his elfy little-"

"How about the trebuchets?" Dellis suggested quickly, pointing to the half-assembled weaponry in the distance. He saw her smile and refocus her attention to their west, pulling an arrow out of her quiver. Dellis did the same and they released in tandem. While Dellis's arrow was dead on, Sera's sailed haphazardly into a nearby pot, shattering it and spilling its contents into the snow.

"Sera, really," Dellis complained, only encouraging more laughter.

"Oh, how about right through Bull's horns?" she asked, referring to the lumbering Qunari companion they had picked up out on the Storm Coast.

"No," Dellis said from the rooftop, crossing his arms over his chest in protest. Sera's eyes brightened after a moment. "I've got the perfect thing!"

Sera pulled another arrow out of her quiver and pulled back the string. Dellis frowned as he tried to determine what she was aiming at. With no small amount of dismay, he realized she was aiming at one of the training dummies outside the gates. The training dummy Cassandra and half a dozen recruits were standing right next to.

"No, Sera!" he shouted, trying to stop her. She let the arrow fly as he grabbed for the bow, knocking it slightly off target. The arrow soared right past Cassandra's head and ripped through one of the tents, sending several of the recruits scattering for cover. Dellis quickly pointed at Sera as Cassandra's steely gaze settled directly on them. Upon seeing Cassandra's look of utter rage, Sera began to laugh so hard she lost her balance. With a loud thump she crashed down onto the roof, sliding off and landing face first into a pile of snow.

Trying not to laugh, Dellis slid down and hopped off, helping tug the elf from the pile. "Ha, I win," she said, wiping snow from her face and pulling out a few strands of hay.

"Yes, Sera," he said with a laugh, "you most definitely win."

"Another round?" she asked with a cheeky grin. Dellis shook his head negatively. "You're no fun."

As Sera disappeared back toward the tavern, Dellis rushed toward the training camp to smooth things over with the Seeker.

"Remind me why I brought you here," Cassandra snarled as he approached, not turning to meet him.

"I can close rifts," he reminding her with a hopeful smile. "Sera's had a bit too much to drink."

"As have you, I'm sure," she snorted, sheathing her sword and finally turning toward him. "What do you want?"

"I wanted to apologize for Sera nearly taking your head off," Dellis began, fidgeting for a moment as she stared at him.

"And?" she asked, expectantly.

Dellis smiled ever so slightly. Apparently, her title was no joke. "And I'm beginning to think you were right."

"About what?" Cassandra asked, her expression flat.

"About my swordsmanship," Dellis explained, absentmindedly rubbing his arm.

"A surprise you survived," she derided, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Hey, I was trying to help you," Dellis replied defensively, receiving only a snort of disgust from the Seeker.

"I can handle myself," Cassandra replied, rolling her eyes slightly, "which is more than I can say for you, apparently."

"Excuse me?" he laughed. "Those archers would have killed you." Dellis was silent for a moment. "I'm sorry. I didn't come here to get into an argument."

Cassandra said nothing, but stepped toward the weapons rack, picking up a sword and handing it to him. He took it, feeling its unusual weight in his hand. Dellis was not a stranger to bladed weapons, but had never actually been trained how to use them. He ignored Cassandra as she tried to hold back a laugh as he tried to reposition the blade.

"It is an extension of your arm," Cassandra explained, holding her own sword to demonstrate. Dellis adjusted his grip and stance to mimic her. "Attack me."

"Are you sure this is a good idea with actual blades?" Dellis asked hesitantly. He smiled slightly as she simply ignored him and motioned again for him to engage. He gripped the blade tightly and leapt forward to attack her. Cassandra easily batted his attack aside.

"You are too aggressive," she critiqued. "Start by simply getting a feel the sword. You do not need to immediately attempt a deathblow."

Dellis chuckled at the comment. "I wasn't trying to kill you, as much as you make me want to sometimes." He hefted the sword as she raised hers again in a defensive position. "So, are you alright?" he asked as he thrusted toward her waiting blade.

"What?" Cassandra asked, narrowing her eyes as she easily blocked him.

"You seemed upset in Val Royeaux," Dellis explained, taking a step back to prepare for another strike. "I thought you might want to talk about it."

"Even if I was, which I am _not_ ," Cassandra began, effortlessly blocking another strike, "why would I wish to speak of it with _you_ of all people?"

"The only other people there were Varric and Solas," he explained as she blocked another blow. "I figured of the three of us you'd least despise talking to me."

"What makes you think I would not prefer to speak with Solas?" Cassandra asked after a moment.

Dellis smiled triumphantly. "So, it _does_ bother you."

As Cassandra blocked the next attack, she whipped him with the pommel of her sword, sending Dellis sprawling into the snow. "Keep your feet apart or you will lose balance."

"Yeah, thanks," he replied brusquely as he pushed himself to his feet, dusting off the snow. "He's wrong about you, you know."

"Do you never tire of hearing your own voice?" Cassandra asked with a sigh.

"You did the right thing," Dellis continued, taking a moment to heed Cassandra's advice and spreading his feet farther apart. "You're doing the Maker's work, even if the templars have forgotten."

"I know I was right," she growled, blocking his next attack and taking a swipe at him. Dellis ducked quickly to avoid it, moving backward to put some distance between them.

"I'm glad you realize that," he told her, wiping away several beads of sweat. "You looked pretty shaken back in Orlais."

"I do not need _you_ to tell me that I am doing the Maker's work," Cassandra snarled, gripping her sword with both hands. "I am fully aware that I am doing what must be done, regardless of whatever consequences may come."

"You mean with the Seekers?" Dellis asked, blocking a quick blow. He knew he had hit a nerve.

"My concerns are none of your business, Thief," she spat angrily, rushing forward. Dellis spun his blade up to block, moving forward himself. The power of her blow knocked the sword from his hand but his step forward sent her crashing into him, her own sword flying into the snow and the two of them tumbling into a fresh snowdrift.

Dellis breathed heavily as he felt the cold snow creeping into the crevasses in his armor. Cassandra still held him pinned in place, both hands viciously clamped onto the shoulder straps of his chestplate. She glared at him with gritted teeth, as if she meant to end him right there. Her brown eyes bored into him with a rage he had never seen before.

"I know you blame me for all of this," he risked saying in a low wavering voice, watching her face closely. "I know I'm not what you were hoping for, but I will do whatever it takes to end this."

The stare down continued for several more uncomfortable moments before Cassandra finally pushed herself up from the snow with a disgusted snort and stalked off. Dellis breathed heavily as he laid there, realizing he'd come very close to pushing her too far. He finally got to his feet, shaking the snow out of his armor. Cassandra was nowhere to be seen.

With a quick stretch he decided to return to the tavern. As he was climbing the steps back into Haven, his ears perked as he heard shouting coming from the spymaster's tent in front of the Chantry. He quickly headed toward the Chantry and walked around the front of the tent to see Leliana and one of her agents in deep, heated discussion.

"Did he think we wouldn't notice?" Leliana asked the other man with a sneer. "You know what must be done. Make it clean. Painless, if you can. We were friends once."

"Wait, you're going to kill this man?" Dellis interrupted, stepping into the tent. Leliana gave him a look he'd never seen on her before. It was a mix of disgust and rage and Dellis couldn't tell if it was directed at the man she planned to kill or at him.

"This man betrayed the Inquisition," she told him, her lip twisting into a snarl. "He murdered one of my agents."

"It sounds like he _was_ one of your agents," Dellis rebutted.

"Betrayal cannot be tolerated."

"So, you'd just kill him with no regrets?" Dellis continued. "You said he was your friend."

"I was foolish," Leliana returned. "What do you suggest I do? Leave him be to kill more of our people? I am condemning one man to save dozens more of our best agents."

"What price are we willing to pay for that?" Dellis asked her with a frown. "This is _murder_ , Leliana."

"We cannot afford the luxury of ideals at a time like this."

"This is the _best_ time for ideals," Dellis insisted with a severe look. "If we do this, we are no better than who we’re fighting."

Leliana's stared mellowed slightly. "I'm surprised that you feel so strongly."

"Why?" Dellis asked with a laugh. "Because I'm a two-bit criminal from the arse end of Denerim?"

"Lothering," Leliana corrected, smiling slightly.

"You're a very good spymaster," Dellis said with his own smirk.

Leliana sighed heavily, turning back to her agent. "Bring him in alive."

Dellis moved further into the tent as the man left to carry out the spymaster's bidding. Leliana turned to him, clearly intent on being angry, but couldn't help but smile. "You have snow in your hair, Herald."

Dellis smirked as he ran a hand quickly through his shaggy brown hair, satisfied to see the icy bits of snow fly out. His smile faded quickly. "Cassandra hasn't been by, has she?"

"No," Leliana confirmed. "The last time I saw her she was out in the training yard."

"Ah, yes of course," Dellis said, breathing a sigh of relief. Leliana quirked an eyebrow at his reaction.

"Did something happen between the two of you?"

"Sort of," he said with a wince. "I asked her to give me pointers on swordplay."

"From the snow I take it you were a slow learner," Leliana grinned.

"I may have made her angry," Dellis admitted after a moment. "I thought she looked a bit spooked in Val Royeaux after our encounter with Lord Seeker Lucius so I tried to make her feel better."

"Dear Maker," Leliana breathed quietly. "What did you say to her?"

"I just told her she was right to form the Inquisition."

Leliana took a deep breath before moving away from him further into the tent. "Cassandra is having a difficult time processing what happened at the Conclave, I think," she admitted after a moment. She turned to him quickly. "I am telling you _none_ of this, just to be clear."

"Promise," Dellis smiled, making a crossing motion over his chest.

"She and I were both very close to Divine Justinia, being her left and right hand," Leliana continued. "I have had the benefit of being more open with my feelings in the past but this is a foreign concept for Cassandra."

"Has she talked to you about it?"

"No, I don't think she's spoken to anyone," Leliana said with a frown. "I tried to get her to talk to me before the two of you travelled to Val Royeaux but she is not the type to speak until the time is right for her." She paused, as if debating whether or not to continue. "You must understand that you have been the catalyst for all the events that have lead us here, thus it is easy for her to direct her anger at you instead of where it truly belongs."

"I figured that out already," Dellis told her with a smile. "I know you two basically forced me into the Inquisition, but after all I've seen I can't leave until we're all safe."

Leliana laughed quietly. "That's rather noble for a thief."

"I've heard stories about _you_ , Leliana," Dellis told her with a wry smile.

"It's true," she admitted with a smile. "I have not been the most noble in the past either, so I should not judge your intentions."

Dellis looked up at the breach in the sky. The green light washed over the snow, giving all of Haven a sickly glow. It had not taken Dellis long since being conscripted into the Inquisition to realize that he was the only one that could end it, and finally he had something worth doing.

"I'm with you guys voluntarily," Dellis told her. "If I have to prove that to Cassandra I will."

"Give her time to adjust to who you are," Leliana suggested with a smile. "If you mean what you say, then your actions will speak louder to her than your words will."

"She didn't seem to appreciate me sparing her from having an arrow shot in her ear," Dellis chuckled.

"That girl," Leliana said with an exasperated sigh. "One of my agents found Sera passed out in a bush outside the tavern."

"Maker, she didn't even make it back?" Dellis couldn't hold back a laugh as he pictured the scene in his mind. Sera would likely have his hide once she woke up and her headache wore off.

"Sera seems intent on keeping us all on our toes," Leliana said with a smile. "Shall I have my agents watch her?"

"That might not a bad idea," Dellis agreed with a grin.

"Very well," she said with a smile. "And Dellis?"

"Yes?"

"Welcome, _officially_ , to the Inquisition."


	5. Seeking the Truth

Several days later, the Inquisition received an anonymous letter from what appeared to be the rebel mages. Though there was no signature, Vivienne had confirmed that the writing style matched that of Grand Enchanter Fiona, once leader of the Circles and now mistress of the mage rebellion.

"I don't think it's wise to pursue the mages, my dear," Vivienne urged as Dellis walked away from the war room.

"I'm surprised to hear you say that," he told her.

"Just because I _am_ a mage does not mean I don't appreciate the gravity of what these rebels have done," Vivienne explained with an almost imperceptible roll of her eyes. "Fiona was a fool to split the mages as she did."

Dellis stopped walking for a moment, addressing the First Enchanter fully. "You really believe in the Circles, don't you?"

"The stories you might have been told about the Circles are grossly exaggerated," she said with a scoff. "Most of them, anyway."

"Not Kirkwall, I think."

"Kirkwall was an exception," Vivienne explained with a certain measure of frustration. "Most Circles were far more permissive. Perhaps _too_ permissive, in hindsight."

"We need their power," Dellis reminded her. "If we're going to close that breach we need to boost the power of my mark, and the mages are the ones that can do it."

Vivienne sighed, giving him the best look of disapproval she could muster. "Well, my dear, if you simply must call upon the mages then don't underestimate the danger."

"I promise I won't," he replied, giving her a cockeyed grin. Her expression softened as she waved him away.

Dellis left the Chantry and headed toward the makeshift smithy. Harritt had agreed to put together new armor for him that would be lighter and offer more mobility than the set he'd been gifted upon being thrust into the Inquisition. Dellis nodded to Krem and the Iron Bull as he walked past them while they sparred. Bull's attention turned briefly to the Herald as he curtly waved in return, allowing Krem enough time to wallop him with a shield bash, sending him sprawling into the snow.

"That's why I wear armor," Dellis chuckled, stopping to reach down and help him up.

"Armor's for pussies," Bull grinned, standing to his full height. Dellis smiled up at the towering Qunari warrior. "You going to get suited up?"

"Something like that," Dellis said with a nod. "We'll be heading out to Redcliffe shortly."

"That sounds a lot more fun than making Krem feel like his shield bash actually does something," Bull returned, ignoring Krem's complaints from behind him. "I get to come with, right?"

"Wouldn't go without you," Dellis said with a smirk, earning a toothy grin from the larger man.

"Krem, keep the boys on their toes," Bull barked to his second in command. "I don't want to come back and find Haven overrun with templars and mages."

"You've got it, Boss," Krem promised with a smile. "The Chargers'll make sure you've got a nice toasty warm tavern to get sloshed in when you get back."

* * *

For a brief moment as they trekked through the undergrowth near the outskirts of Redcliffe, Dellis sincerely wished they had brought horses. The letter they had received from Grand Enchanter Fiona requested their presence in Redcliffe village, presumably to discuss an alliance.

Blackwall and the Iron Bull lead the party, the two of them hacking through the overgrown plants to cut a path for the rest of the group. Dellis trailed behind them, his bow in his hand and a dagger strapped to his belt. He had considered asking Cassandra for more swordsmanship training, but after their first exercise he was concerned she might do more than refuse. He could almost hear her disapproving tone as he remembered their scuffle.

Dellis jumped as he felt a hand on his arm, at which point he realized he hadn't been imagining her voice. "Are you even listening?"

"What?" he asked, turning to see her standing next to him and looking very unimpressed. "I'm sorry, I was lost in thought."

"That much was obvious," she snorted. Cassandra's severe expression softened after a moment. "I feel I should apologize for my behavior the other day."

"You are apologizing to _me_?" Dellis asked, genuinely surprised. His eyes narrowed and a hint of a grin appeared on his face. "Been talking to Leliana, have you?"

Cassandra sighed loudly. "You seem intent on making me dislike you."

"I suppose you'll have to get used to it," Dellis replied with a smirk, "because this is who I am."

"And who is that, precisely?" Cassandra asked with a quirked brow.

"You already know I'm a thief from Denerim," he told her with a shrug of his shoulders. "And probably more, if you've been talking to Leliana."

"I asked Leliana only what I needed to know," Cassandra admitted. "Clearly it was not enough."

"How about a trade, then?" Dellis suggested with as innocent a smile as he could muster. The look of contempt on Cassandra's face suggested she disapproved. "I'll tell you something about me and you tell me something about you."

Cassandra considered it for a moment, finally sighing in defeat. "Fine."

"Ask me whatever you want," Dellis instructed with a grin.

"All I know about you is that you were a petty thief in Denerim, arrested six times since you were eighteen," she explained, eyeing him cautiously. "There is no record of you in Denerim before that time."

"That's because I wasn't in Denerim," Dellis explained as he ducked beneath a low branch. "I was in Lothering."

"Lothering?" she asked, her eyes suddenly brightening. "Did you know the Champion?"

Dellis sighed loudly, a slight smile creeping to his face. "You see, Seeker, this is why I don't tell people I'm from Lothering anymore."

"You were born there?" Cassandra asked after a moment.

"No, probably Redcliffe actually," he returned with a shrug. "My parents disappeared early. Not sure if they died or just abandoned me but the town smith took me in as an infant, as I'm told."

"You are an orphan?" the Seeker asked, her features softening slightly.

"Probably," Dellis shrugged. "The couple that took me in was kind to me, but when I was six the smith realized I wouldn't make a good apprentice so out I went."

"I'm sorry," Cassandra said, sounding as though she may have been sincere.

"So, I went to Lothering."

"Bullshit." Dellis smiled as Varric turned his head.

"That sounds awkwardly familiar," the dwarf chuckled. "Did you claim a dragon saved you from bandits or something?"

"He claims he walked from Redcliffe to Lothering when he was six," Cassandra clarified.

"I didn't say that," Dellis laughed as they continued to walk. "I was _six_. I don't remember _how_ I got there, only that I did."

"So, did you know Hawke?" Varric asked.

Dellis groaned, shaking his head. "Yes, I knew Hawke. _Barely_." He put a hand up as Cassandra began to speak. "It's your turn, I think."

The Seeker looked at him for a moment before rolling her eyes. "What do you wish to know?"

"How did you become a Seeker?" Dellis asked.

"No."

"What do you mean no?" he asked with a confused look.

"That is my business," she clarified coldly. "Ask something else."

"Fine," Dellis agreed with a sigh. "How did you become Right Hand of the Divine?"

"Wait, you don't know the story?" Varric asked, his eyes brimming with incredulity. "Everyone knows that one."

"Why would I know it?" Dellis asked, looking between them. Even Cassandra seemed surprised.

"They must have stopped singing the ballads, finally," she breathed with a hint of relief. "I will tell you if you wish to know, but it is hardly as exciting as Varric might make it out to be if _he_ told the tale."

"Come now, Seeker, don't leave out all the good parts," Varric grinned, earning a disgusted glare from Cassandra. "Don't spoil Sneaky's first introduction to the Tale of the Seeker."

"Sneaky?" Dellis laughed. "Varric, these are getting worse."

The dwarf waved him off, a sudden look of annoyance appearing on his normally jovial features. "I take it back, Seeker," Varric told her with a glum look. "Tell him whatever you want. I'm going to go think of an appropriate nickname for our esteemed Herald of Andraste."

"I uncovered a plot to assassinate Divine Beatrix years ago in Val Royeaux," Cassandra explained as Varric hung back and joined the rest of the group. "I saved her life and she rewarded me by declaring me the Right Hand."

"You saved the Divine from assassination," Dellis repeated, his brow furrowed. "There must be more to it than that otherwise she'd have just thanked you."

"You claim to know what Most Holy would do?" Dellis stared at her until finally she relented with a grunt. "There may have been dragons."

"Dragons?"

"Yes, dragons," Cassandra repeated, rolling her eyes.

"Like more than one of them?"

The Seeker let out an exasperated sigh. "You really haven't heard this story, have you?"

Dellis couldn't help but laugh. "No, I wasn't just having you on."

"There was a group of blood mages that was planning to murder Most Holy by controlling dragons," Cassandra explained. "I uncovered the plot and ended it."

"And you slew all the dragons, I imagine," he said with a smirk. "The Pentaghasts being a line of dragon slayers is something I _do_ know."

"You might be surprised at how many of the Pentaghast clan will say as much but have never even _seen_ a dragon."

"So, you're a big bloody dragon slaying hero then?" Dellis asked with a smirk.

"I was simply doing my duty as a Seeker of Truth," she shrugged. "Besides, I did not save her alone. I would not have been able to succeed without the help of mages loyal to the Chantry. Without their aid I surely would have been slain myself."

"You're being modest," Dellis said with a surprised smile. "I didn't expect that."

"I am being truthful," Cassandra corrected. "Even if I were not, a Seeker should be humble regarding her achievements."

"So, I shouldn't ask Maryden to write a new ballad about you forming the Inquisition then?" he asked with an innocent smile. His smile widened when he did not receive the glare he had expected. Finally, it appeared but to his surprise it was directed elsewhere.

"Rift ahead," Blackwall's deep voice bellowed. Dellis immediately pulled an arrow from his quiver and readied it, his eyes scanning the foliage for any signs of demons. He could see the rift Blackwall had announced in the distance.

"Stay back," Cassandra ordered, pulling her sword out of its sheath and running toward the rift.

Dellis took the momentary lull to find higher ground, quickly climbing atop a nearby outcropping of rock. The rift churned as they approached, lashing out with tendrils of green light as it prepared to release a slew of demons.

With a loud crack, half a dozen demons appeared before them. Dellis lined up a shot and fired, watching as the arrow sailed toward the terror demon that had appeared near the rift. He frowned as he watched the arrow suddenly seem to stop in mid-flight. It took a moment for him to realize that it hadn't stopped, but rather was moving at a snail's pace.

"What in the name of Andraste...?" Dellis jumped down from the outcropping and moved closer to the rift. He stopped suddenly when _everything_ slowed. He looked on, eyes wide, as he saw Bull crush a shade with his warhammer in what seemed to be slow motion. Dellis hesitantly pulled another arrow from his quiver and fired at another terror demon. The arrow sailed right into its slow-moving head, sending it sprawling the ground at the same speed as those around it.

Dellis turned just in time to see another terror demon preparing to flank him. He turned and took a step backward, pulling out another arrow. He nearly tripped and fell as the terror demon rushed forward at incomprehensible speed. He fired, but in his surprise, he completely missed, leaving himself wide open to attack. Instinctively Dellis reached for his knife, pulling it out of the sheath at his hip and slicing outward frantically. The demon faltered long enough for Bull to plow straight into it head first, knocking to the ground as Blackwall rushed in to help.

"Seal the rift, Herald!" Solas shouted from across the battlefield, yanking Dellis back to reality. He reached out with his left hand, quickly closing the rift and banishing the remaining demons.

"What in the name of the Maker was that all about?" Blackwall grumbled as they regrouped.

"Did you see how this rift altered the flow of time around it?" Solas asked.

"Was that what it was?" Dellis asked, his face full of concern.

"It appears there were pockets around this rift where the passage of time was altered," Solas explained. "Some of them seemed to speed time up while others were slowed."

"Well shit," Sera grumbled.

"We'll get to the bottom of it," Dellis promised.

"Come, we should make haste to meet with the mages," Cassandra suggested. The group fell in line with her and together they headed for Redcliffe village.

* * *

The sun was setting by the time to group returned to Haven. Upon arriving in Redcliffe, they had discovered that the mages were now under the control of a Magister from Tevinter, much to their dismay. Magister Gereon Alexius was him name, and as Fiona told it he had conveniently arrived to aid the southern mages in their time of greatest need, just after the Divine's death.

Negotiations had become heated, but had been interrupted when Alexius's son, Felix, had become faint. Before leaving, he had passed Dellis a note asking him to come to the Chantry alone. Cassandra had protested but had ultimately relented. She was none too happy afterward to discover that a rift had awaited him.

"It was foolhardy to go alone," she complained as Dellis and the rest of the war party gathered. "You could have been killed and then where would we be?"

"If I hadn't gone we might be walking right into a trap," Dellis reminded her.

"You _did_ walk into a trap!" Cassandra snorted in disgust as Leliana stepped forward.

"This is not the time for arguing," the spymaster interjected. "We need to plan our next move if we're have a chance at closing the Breach."

"We don't have the resources to take the castle," Cullen said with a frown. "We should give up this nonsense and go to the templars for aid."

"You suggest we leave Redcliffe in the hands of a Tevinter magister?" Cassandra asked in disbelief. "No, we _must_ liberate the city from this madman."

"The letter we received from Alexius requested the Herald's presence alone," Josephine reminded them, holding up the letter they had received after the unfortunately abbreviated meeting with the magister. "It's an obvious trap."

"It does not matter how much we must save Redcliffe," Cullen growled. "We simply don't have the man power. It's _impossible_."

"It is hardly impossible, Commander," Cassandra returned, eyeing him with no small measure of annoyance.

"And how do you suppose we infiltrate a heavily defended, well-fortified stronghold such as Redcliffe Castle?" Cullen asked. "If we send him in there he'll die, and we'll have no means to close the rifts."

"Even if we _could_ send our soldiers in to secure the keep, an Orlesian Inquisition's army marching on a Fereldan arling would provoke a war," Josephine told them. "Our hands are tied."

"Would you all stop fighting?" Dellis shouted, breaking his silence. "You sound like bickering children."

The entire war room went silent as they turned toward the Herald. He held on to the confidence he had managed to find and stared the them down.

"My agents can infiltrate the castle," Leliana offered after a moment, giving Dellis a slight smile of approval. "If the Herald can provide a distraction I believe my agents can ensure his safety."

"How do you plan to infiltrate?" Cullen asked. "Redcliffe Castle is one of the most defensible fortresses in all of Ferelden. It has withstood hundreds of attacks."

"There is a secret passage into the castle," Leliana explained. "It was used as an escape route for the family in years past. My agents can sneak in undetected."

"I don't even want to know how you became aware of this," Cullen replied, his expression a mixture of concern and respect. "I worry that even with a distraction, your agents might be discovered before they do any good."

All heads in the room turned as the heavy war room door creaked open and a young man appeared. Dellis recognized him as Dorian Pavus, a Tevinter mage that had helped him seal the rift that had appeared in the Redcliffe Chantry. He had been the one who had told them that Alexius's offer was secretly a trap and that the magister had no intentions of cooperating with the Inquisition.

"Perhaps I can help with your planning," Dorian said with a charming smile.

"I'm sorry, he insisted he could help," the guard said, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "He pushed past me before I could stop him."

"It's alright," Leliana told him, motioning for him to leave them. The guard bowed his head and backed out the room, closing the door behind him.

"Your spies will not have much luck evading Alexius's traps without my help," Dorian told them. "Luckily, here I am all ready and eager to do just that."

"You want to come with?" Dellis asked.

"Of course I do!" Dorian proclaimed with a broad smile. "A chance to see this ridiculous magic of Alexius's first hand? I wouldn't pass it up."

"You're the one in the most danger here, Herald," Cullen admitted after a moment. "None of us can ask you to do this."

Dellis shrugged, waving his hand dismissively. "It sounds downright exciting."

"Oh, I think you and I will get along quite well, Herald," Dorian said, beaming from ear to ear. "This should be exciting indeed."

* * *

It was nearly midnight and Dellis was still in the tavern nursing his fourth pint. As confident as he had sounded in the war room, he was beginning to really think about the fact that he would be entering an ambush intentionally on his own. Well, not entirely on his own, he had to admit. Cassandra had refused to allow him to go into the castle completely undefended and insisted that she join him. He knew she would find a way, even if the guards forbade her.

His vision was starting to blur just enough that when Sera plopped down across from him he jumped back in his chair slightly. She set her mug down in front of her and stared at him intently.

"I- I need to talk you," Sera told him. "About... things."

"Something bothering you?" Dellis asked with a frown. It was unlike Sera to have such a serious tone in her voice.

"You're going to recruit the mages or whatever, right?" she asked, anxiously running her fingertip around the lip of the mug.

"That's the plan," he replied, taking a swig of his ale. He studied her face closely, noting a slight twitch to her lip. "Sera, are you afraid of mages?"

"No," she nearly shouted with a sharp snort. "Don't be ridiculous."

"No one would blame you," Dellis assured her. "I'm not a big fan myself."

"I am _not_ scared of mages," she insisted, her lip twisting into a snarl. She was silent for a moment before sighing into her mug. "I'm afraid of _magic_ , alright?"

Dellis couldn't contain a laugh, much to Sera's chagrin. "Sera, that's completely normal."

"Oi, who you laughin' at you stupid bloody arse?" Sera glared at him, hiding slightly behind the mug.

"Hey, do you remember when I got hurt when we first met in Val Royeaux?" Dellis asked after his laughter subsided.

"Yeah," she acknowledged, still glaring.

"I could have had Solas or Vivienne use magic to heal me faster," Dellis reminded her. "Why do you think I didn't?"

Sera's scowl softened as she thought about his words. She took a deep gulp from her mug before wiping her face with her sleeve. "Hey, you're not so bad."

"Us dirty street rats have got to stick together, right?"

"Right," she said with a laugh. "So, I suppose maybe I shouldn't prank anyone tonight, then?"

Dellis chuckled, finishing off the rest of his ale. "Maybe wait until after we finish this mage business, eh?"

"I suppose," Sera said with a shrug. "You know, Trev, sometimes you're no fun."


	6. Always Remember Me

Dellis waited impatiently at the entrance to Redcliffe Castle, flanked by Cassandra and Dorian. They had been waiting at the gates for the guards to summon Alexius's lieutenant and it was obvious that the Seeker was becoming impatient.

"Please try to calm yourself, Seeker," Dorian pleaded. "You're making _me_ nervous."

Cassandra scowled at the Tevinter mage, but directed her attention to the guard. "You have kept us waiting for almost an hour."

The guard looked up at her. "You'll wait until someone comes out here to fetch you."

Dellis quickly took hold of her arm as she looked like she might beat the man right then and there. "Let's not make a scene before we even get inside," he suggested with a hopeful smile.

"This is ridiculous," Cassandra muttered.

"Don't be so eager, Cassandra," Dorian urged with a smile. "We may well end up pincushions in there."

"I would rather fight than wait," she complained with a sigh.

"Aren't you Seekers supposed to be the patient types?" the mage asked. Dellis shot him a warning look as Cassandra continued to glare.

Finally, after over an hour of waiting, a man dressed in enough finery to suggest he might be Alexius's right hand appeared to meet them. He immediately scowled as he saw the extra companions Dellis had brought.

"The magister's invitation was for Master Trevelyan," the man announced. "Alone."

"They come with me," Dellis replied casually, "or you can tell your master that I'm leaving."

There was a pause as the man considered the Herald's words. "Fine, you may come," he announced after a moment, "but I expect that they'll behave."

The man led the group through the halls of Redcliffe Castle, their walls still adorned with tapestries and other finery. Servants bustled to and fro, giving no indication that the Arl had even been deposed. Finally, they were ushered into Arl Teagan's throne room, though the Arl himself was replaced on the throne by Magister Alexius.

"My lord, may I present Master Trevelyan, Herald of the Inquisition," the man announced them, prompting Alexius to turn his attention to the entourage. He stood up from the throne with a smile, motioning for them to move closer. Dellis took a step forward, followed by Cassandra. He faltered a moment as he realized Dorian was missing.

"Welcome, Herald," Alexius greeted him, eyeing Cassandra cautiously. "I am glad you accepted my invitation, although I expected you alone."

"The Herald of Andrastre does not travel alone," Cassandra replied casually.

"I understand," Alexius replied with a nod and a smile. "If you are prepared, then, I feel we can continue our negotiations."

"I'm surprised Fiona isn't here with you," Dellis commented casually as he slowly climbed the stairs toward the throne. "Should she not have a say in the fate of her charges?"

"They are _my_ charges now, Herald," Alexius reminded him. "She would not have turned them over to my care if she did not trust me with their lives."

"Oh yes, you do seem _so_ trustworthy," Dellis agreed sarcastically.

"Let us continue our earlier discussion," the magister suggested, sitting back down on the throne. "Your Inquisition needs mages and I have them. What can you offer in exchange?"

Dellis folded his arms across his chest and considered his options. Leliana's agents needed as much time as possible to get into position, so he would have to keep the magister talking as long as possible. "We have numerous connections with the Orlesian nobility," he suggested with a smile. "I'm sure we can find something to pique your interest."

"What precisely do you think Orlesians can offer that I don't already possess?" Alexius asked with an amused laugh.

"He knows everything, father," Felix interrupted with a sigh. _Damn it, Felix. Too soon._

"What have you done?" Alexius snarled at his son, standing from the throne.

"What needed to be done, father," Felix returned. "You're going too far. Give this up and let's go home!"

"This is your doing," Alexius snarled, turning toward Dellis and Cassandra. "You turned my son against me!"

"Your son came to _us_ , Alexius," Dellis barked, taking another step toward the magister. "We will have answers."

"You think you can come to me, in my own stronghold, with your stolen mark that you don't even understand and think you're in control?" Alexius snarled.

"You know about the mark?" Dellis asked him, his eyes brightening. "Tell me what it is!"

"Even if I told you, thief, you could not comprehend what the Elder One had planned."

"Father, can you hear yourself?" Felix pleaded. "Do you know what you sound like?"

"He sounds exactly like the sort of villainous cliché everyone expects us to be."

"Dorian," Alexius growled as the Tevinter mage stepped out from the shadows. "I offered you the chance to join us, and yet you turned me down."

"Of course I did," Dorian replied with a laugh. "See, this is the kind of nonsense that makes everyone dislike Tevinter."

"The Elder One has power you cannot comprehend, Dorian," the magister continued. "He will raise Tevinter from its grave and return us to our former glory!"

"Did this Elder One you speak of murder the Divine?" Cassandra asked. Dellis put a hand on her arm as she moved forward, hoping to delay the inevitable bloodshed that he knew would be coming.

Alexius simply laughed at her question. "Soon the Elder One will be a god and you will all kneel to him and to mages. The Tevinter empire will once again span all Thedas, as it should.

"This is exactly what you and I talked about wanting to never happen," Dorian interjected, his face suddenly twisting in determination. Dellis's attention was turned to the shadows next to him where he could see Leliana's agents quietly neutralizing Alexius's guards.

"Stop this nonsense, father," Felix pleaded once again. "Release the southern mages and let them help the Inquisition close the Breach."

"No," Alexius shouted. "It's the only way, Felix. He can _save_ you."

"Is that what this is about?" the younger mage asked in surprise. "I'm going to die, father. You need to accept it."

The magister shook his head violently. "No," he refused. "Venatori, seize the pretender. The Elder One demands this man's life!"

"That might be problematic, Alexius," Dellis said with a smile as he watched the Inquisition agents kill the last of the Venatori guards.

"You should never have existed," Alexius snarled, green energy beginning to surround him. A small object Dellis could not identify floated above his hand as he prepared whatever Tevinter magic he planned to use against them.

"No!" Dorian shouted, running ahead and hurling magic of his own at Alexius.

"Dorian, wait!" Dellis cried, jumping forward to stop him. With a bright green flash, the two men were thrown to the ground with a great splash. A splash? Dellis pushed himself to his feet, noting that he was now ankle deep in water and most certainly not in the throne room. Dorian stood next to him, looking around in awe.

There was no time to wonder how they had suddenly appeared in a waterlogged prison cell as two soldiers burst through the open doors. "Blood of the Elder One, where did they come from?"

"Never mind how," the second soldier barked. "Kill them!"

Dellis felt a tingle as Dorian waved his arm, wrapping both men in a magical barrier as one of the guards swung a massive broadsword at the two. The barrier held true, causing the blade to bounce off as they prepared themselves for battle. Forgoing his bow, Dellis pulled the dagger out of its sheath on his belt, praying that his hunter's instincts might keep him alive long enough to survive the battle.

A burst of flame from Dorian's hand was enough to stagger the first guard, giving Dellis an opportunity to rush past him at the second. The man swung wildly, missing Dellis's head by mere inches as the rogue took a breath and rolled through the water, popping up with a splash and burying the dagger in the guard's back. With a scream the man fell to the floor, allowing Dellis to scoop up his sword. He slid the dagger back into its sheath and moved on to the next soldier.

Dorian was holding the man at bay with a number of different magicks, but with a room full of water fire did little to discourage the lumbering swordsman. Dellis quickly dashed toward them, the sloshing of his feet gaining the other man's attention.

Remembering what Cassandra had told him, he skidded to a halt to block the incoming attack, keeping his feet apart. The clash of the two swords echoed down the empty hallway, the ferocity dropping Dellis to one knee. He gritted his teeth as he held the other man at bay.

When he realized he'd been totally forgotten, Dorian reached around the guard, quickly grabbing the hilt of the dagger and pulling it from the sheath. With a quick slice the man fell to the water below. "Well that was certainly exciting."

"Where are we?" Dellis asked after catching his breath.

"Not where, I think," Dorian replied, seeming deep in thought. "When."

Dellis stood mute for longer than seemed possible. "You're saying he moved us through _time_?"

"The amulet he held must have been the focus," Dorian said with an excited grin.

"You seem awfully happy about this," Dellis commented, his annoyance plain. "I hope you have a plan to get us _back_."

"Sorry," the mage apologized, his smile only fading slightly. "Time magic was something Alexius and I had worked on together before this, but it was all theoretical. We could never get it to actually work."

"Thank the Maker for that," Dellis breathed, moving toward one of the bodies. He unstrapped the man's belt and quickly fastened it to himself, happily sliding the larger sword into his newly-obtained sheath. "Why are we the only ones here?"

"That is a good question," Dorian mused, walking away from him slightly. "I suspect that Alexius was trying to kill you. Perhaps remove you from the timeline entirely so his master's plans would not have been interrupted at the Temple of Sacred ashes."

"Your attack in the hall must have altered the spell," Dellis suggested.

"Perhaps," Dorian agreed. "He may have thrown us in to that time rift before the spell was complete."

Dellis winced slightly, rubbing his head with his hand. "This is all a bit much for me to comprehend."

"Yes, I imagine it must be an awful strain for a soporati such as yourself."

"A what?" Dellis asked, his brow furrowing even further.

"Ah, nevermind," the mage returned with a bashful smile. "We need to reverse the spell, however, else I can't imagine what this will do to the fabric of time itself."

It became very evident as the two men traveled through the walkways of Redcliffe Castle that something was very wrong. Red lyrium jutted from the walls, the ceilings, and several decaying corpses. Dellis remembered Varric explaining the dangers of red lyrium and began to wonder exactly how bad things were in whatever time he had landed.

"I don't like this one bit," he muttered as they ascended a flight of stairs.

"Yes, Alexius has made quite a mess of the place, I agree," Dorian returned. Dellis smiled slightly at the man's ability to make a joke even when surrounded by red lyrium. They continued through what appeared to be the castle dungeons. Most of the cells were empty, the doors swung wide open. A few were home to decaying bodies or skeletons. Almost all of them contained large deposits of red lyrium.

"How did all this red lyrium get here?" Dellis asked to himself.

"I'm not sure," Dorian admitted. "I've read about red lyrium but you don't find much of it in Tevinter. Or anywhere, come to think of it."

Dellis's attention was drawn away as he heard the sound of a man's voice. Dorian followed him through the dungeon until they reached the only occupied cell they had had found thus far. There was an elven man sitting in the corner, muttering nonsense. Dellis winced as he realized that there was literally red lyrium growing from his body.

"Nothing he's saying is intelligible," Dorian complained, moving closer to inspect the man. "He doesn't even seem to know we're here."

As the elf continued to rant on and on in gibberish, Dellis turned his attention to the other side of the cell, where there was another large red lyrium deposit. He could vaguely made out what appeared to be a skeletal arm, and a very familiar skull. He felt his chest constrict and turned away from Dorian before heaving the contents of his stomach onto the stone floor.

"Well that's not pretty," Dorian quipped.

"It's Bull," Dellis muttered, slowing standing and wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "Maker save us if we can't fix this."

"We will, Herald," Dorian assured him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Come on, we should keep moving. There's nothing we can do for this poor sod."

Dellis nodded, risking one more look at the sad Qunari skull sitting lifeless on the floor, before turning away and moving deeper into the dungeon. The concentration of red lyrium seemed to wane as they reached another door. As it opened, the two were greeted with a junction.

"Left or right?" Dorian asked, prompting a shrug from the Herald. "Left, then, I say."

"Good enough," Dellis agreed, taking the lead and opening the door. "I can't believe there aren't any more guards down here."

"I don't imagine they do much with the prisoners," Dorian shrugged. "They've all been dead so far, aside from the elf."

"I can't believe that _everyone_ is dead," Dellis breathed, suddenly realizing just how much he had invested in the Inquisition. He would always be the first to admit he never wanted to be there, but now the thought of all of them being gone left him all but paralyzed.

"Yes, I expect it's hard to lose friends, even if it's only temporarily," Dorian replied in an unusually warm tone.

"I hadn't actually realized they _were_ friends," Dellis admitted, smiling slightly at the idea. The smile wilted as he realized that if he failed, he'd never see a single one of them again.

"It does have a tendency to sneak up on you like that," Dorian offered, his tone picking up its usual perkiness. Dellis pushed a door open to reveal yet another dead end, eliciting an annoyed groan from the mage. "I'd give my mustache for a map right now."

"Somehow, I doubt that," Dellis replied with a chuckle. He was about to turn around when his eyes fell on the familiar form of an Inquisition shield. Dellis took a step forward, intending to claim the shield for his own, but stopped when his eyes fell upon an occupied cell. His breath caught in his throat as he realized the prisoner was Cassandra.

The Seeker sat curled up in the corner, her face gaunt as if she'd been starved and beaten. For a moment Dellis thought she might have been dead, but the slow rise and fall of her shoulders assured him that, at least for the moment, she still drew breath. Without uttering a word, he reached into the satchel at this hip and pulled out a lock pick.

"Isn't that your Seeker friend?" Dorian asked as he followed the Herald's intent gaze. Dellis opened the lock without answering, throwing open the cell door and kneeling down next to the battered woman.

"Cassandra?" he asked, shaking her shoulders to try and wake her. "Come on, open your eyes. Cassandra!"

Dellis continued to watch her as the Seeker's eyes fluttered open. Instead of looking on him with joy he could see her eyes twist with fear. "Demon!" she snarled, pushing him away and vainly trying to squeeze herself further into the corner.

"What? No!" he assured her, trying to stop her struggling. "I'm Dellis, not a demon."

"No, he died," Cassandra insisted.

"How long ago?" Dorian interjected.

"A year, I think," Cassandra confirmed, her eyes never leaving Dellis.

"It's been a year?" he breathed.

"Magister Alexius obliterated the Herald right before my eyes," Cassandra explained, shaking her head.

"No he didn't," Dellis insisted. "He sent us forward in time through the rift. We can fix this so that none of this ever happens."

Cassandra continued to stare at him, her apprehension still clear. "I want to believe you..."

Dellis broke eye contact for a moment, trying to think of a way to convince her he was telling the truth. "Do you remember when we were walking to Redcliffe Village and I asked you how you became the Right Hand of the Divine?"

Cassandra nodded weakly, but made no other reply.

"When I told you that I hadn't heard the ballad, I was lying," Dellis explained, unable to hide his smile. "I'm sorry, but you were right. _Everyone_ has heard it if they've spent any time in a tavern. It's unavoidable. I just wanted to hear how _you'd_ tell it." He paused, smiling again. "I'm a little disappointed you didn't _actually_ slay thirty dragons with your bare hands."

Dellis began to apologize again for having been less than truthful, but found the wind knocked out of him as Cassandra surged forward and wrapped both arms around him like a vice. She gripped his shoulders tightly, as if she feared he might disappear if she released him. As the shock wore off, he enveloped her as comfortingly as he could. His breath caught in his throat as he felt hot tears drip down onto his neck.

"Cassandra," Dellis breathed, not really sure what to say to the woman who, only days earlier, had tried to take his head off.

"Maker forgive me, I failed," she sobbed, her grip so tight he was sure it would leave a mark. "I failed you. I failed everyone."

"No, you didn't fail," he told her, putting a hand on the back of her head as she continued to cry into his shoulder.

"You don't understand," Cassandra murmured, her grip loosening slightly. "The Elder One has taken control of everything. He utterly destroyed the Inquisition, assassinated the Empress and lead a demon army to conquer the south. There is nothing left to defend."

Dellis took her by the shoulders, moving her away before taking her face in his hands. She looked worn and exhausted, as if ready to give up on life itself. "I promise you I will fix this and none of this will happen."

Cassandra smiled weakly as he released her, wiping the remaining tears from her cheeks. "I should have put more faith in you."

"Turns out I'm not that bad once you get to know me," Dellis replied with a smirk, helping her to her feet.

"If you do make it back to fix this, don't tell me you lied," she requested with a small smile. "It was nice thinking there was one person on the planet that did not know who I was."

"I promise," Dellis told her with a smile. He backed out of the cell and moved to the far side of the block, gathering up the Inquisition gear that looked like it had probably been laying there for the entire year. He blew the dust off before bringing it back to his companions.

"I guess that's a start," Dorian commented, giving Cassandra a once over. She was dressed in what Dellis recognized as common prison wear from his many stays in prisons and dungeons across Thedas. "I'm not sure what we'll do about armor, though."

"It is unnecessary," Cassandra grunted, taking the sword and shield with little effort.

"Are you sure?" Dellis asked, scratching the back of his head. "You're not going to be at the top of your game."

"If I fall I suppose you will just have to go back in time and make it as if it never happened," she explained, walking toward the door.

"I think she's all recovered now," Dorian quipped, giving Dellis a smirk before falling in step behind her.

"Leliana should still be alive," Cassandra announced as they headed back down the hall toward the fork. "I heard the guards speaking of her yesterday."

"We should find her," Dellis suggested from the rear, having taken the opportunity to give up the sword for his bow.

The three of them made their way through the belly of the castle. They did not meet any resistance until finally climbing out of the dungeons. The first set of guards they happened upon were too surprised by their presence to put up any meaningful resistance. Cassandra, despite her haggard appearance, seemed just as capable as ever, though Dellis didn’t know whether it was because of her skill or simple force of will.

They cut a path through several of the time-distorting rifts and what seemed like an endless supply of Venatori guards before Dellis motioned for them to be silent. The sound of voices could be heard down the hallway, and as they moved closer Dellis could recognize one as Leliana’s.

"Quick, pick the lock," Dorian whispered as the door refused to budge. The muffled sounds of arguing could be heard within. It was very clear that Leliana was being tortured for information, and Dellis flinched as he heard the sound of her being struck. It was a wonder that after a year there was still information locked away in her mind that the Elder One and his minions had not managed to extract. It was even more amazing that it was worth keeping her alive for.

"I will die before I break," Leliana spat just as Dellis managed to get the door open. He saw Leliana chained by her wrists, dangling several feet below the ceiling. Blood dripped down her arms from where the shackles had dug into her flesh. The torturer turned to the intruders, giving the spymaster just the opportunity she needed. In a fluid motion, she swung her legs up over his shoulders, locking her ankles and squeezing her powerful thighs around the man's neck. He sputtered and gasped, swatting at her frantically, but finally she had the leverage she needed and snapped his neck with a twist of her hips.

"Hold on, Leliana," Dellis said, kneeling next to the body and quickly rifling the dead man’s pockets for his keys. He stood as he found them, reaching up to quickly unlock the shackles. Dellis reached out to steady her as Leliana dropped the floor beneath.

"You're alive...?" she asked, looking up at him in awe. As Dellis returned her gaze he was finally able to fully appreciate her current condition. Her eyes were sunken and her flesh ashen grey. Her face looked as though it had aged decades rather than simply a year.

"What happened to you?" Dellis gasped as she gained her balance.

"It is the blight," Cassandra explained.

"Good to see you still live, Cassandra," Leliana said with a small hint of a smile, "and that you are still as blunt as ever."

"They did this to you?" Dellis asked, frowning as he inspected her.

"It does not matter anymore," she said with a shake of her head. "How are you alive?"

"We traveled through time," Dorian told her. "This world was never meant to happen and we can change it."

Leliana sighed as she pushed past him, rifling through the torturemaster's things. "And mages always wonder why people fear them."

"It's dangerous and unpredictable," Dorian agreed. "Before the Breach nothing we did could give us results like-"

"Enough," Leliana growled, turning to face the mage. "This is all pretend to you. Some future that you hope will never exist. I suffered. Cassandra suffered. The entire world burned and it was real to us."

"I'm sorry, Leliana," Dellis offered. He pulled his bow out and handed it and his quiver to her. "I can't imagine what you went through, but I'm going to do everything I can to ensure you don't have to."

The four left the torturer's chamber, heading toward the throne room and what Dellis hoped would be salvation. He had pulled his sword back out, hoping any scuffles they might find themselves in would be quick and painless.

"So, what _did_ happen while we were away?" Dorian asked as they walked through the dimly lit halls.

"Stop talking," Leliana barked.

"I was just asking," Dorian replied defensively.

"No, you were speaking to fill silence," she accused. "Nothing happened that you want to hear."

"I'm sorry," Dorian said after a moment. "Truly."

Leliana's sigh was loud enough to echo down the hall. "I know," she admitted, hanging her head slightly. "I truly hope that you both are right and can save us all."

Finally, the group reached the heavy doors leading to the throne room. Dellis plowed into them with enough force to fling them wide open. Alexius, though he stood at the end, did not flinch.

"I've come for you, Alexius," Dellis growled angrily, though the magister did not turn to face him. "Look at what you've done to Thedas. Was it worth it?"

"It should have been," Alexius mused, "but it doesn't matter now."

"It _does_ matter," Dorian told him. "We can undo what you have done. Give us the amulet."

"Do you think I have not tried?" Alexius snarled. "It is impossible. Everything I have fought for is gone. The Elder One will come for you, for me, for us all..."

Alexius's head snapped to his left as there was as rustling of fabric on stone. Leliana held a blighted Felix at knife point, glaring at the magister.

"That's Felix?" Dorian gasped, his mouth agape. "Maker's breath, Alexius, what have you _done_ to him?"

"I saved him!" Alexius returned, his expression twisted in fear as Leliana held the knife ever closer to the man's throat. Felix made no attempt at self-defense, as if he were nothing more than a shell of a man. "Don't harm him."

"The amulet," Dellis bellowed. "Hand it over and he's yours."

"Release him and you will have whatever you want," Alexius promised.

"I want the world back," Leliana growled, her teeth clenched as she slid the knife across Felix's neck. He dropped to the floor, leaving an ever-growing puddle of blood at her feet.

Alexius bellowed in rage as his son's life slipped away, throwing a wave of magic energy at Leliana. Dellis dropped his sword, breaking into a sprint as he dashed forward and tackled the grieving magister, pulling out his knife and holding it at the man's throat. "This is over, Alexius."

"It is, Herald," he agreed, grabbing Dellis's arm and pulling it down, ending his own life.

"A sad end," Dorian said with a shake of his head.

"I didn't kill him," Dellis insisted.

"I know," Dorian returned with a weak smile. "He wanted to die, after all the lies he told himself..."

"I'm sorry it ended like this."

"It's not over," Dorian reminded him, reaching into Alexius's pocket and producing the amulet. "Give me an hour and I'm sure I can work out the spell."

"An hour?" Leliana barked. "We don't have an hour. You must go _now_."

A tremor shook the ground, as if to punctuate the spymaster's words. Dellis could hear the familiar shriek of a terror demon in the distance. There was another sound that he couldn't quite place, but it sounded closer and more fearsome than a demon.

"It must be the Elder One," Cassandra announced. She looked at the others and her face turned defiant. "You must open the rift now. Leliana and I will protect you until you make it through."

"You're joking right?" Dellis asked. "You're barely in condition to fight, much less take on a horde of demons yourselves. You'll die."

"Then I will finally be with the Maker," she returned, her resolve still strong. "Whatever happens, Trevelyan, it has been my honor to fight at your side."

"Cassandra," he said, cut off by a shake of her head.

"Look at us," Leliana demanded. "We're already dead. The only way we live is if this day never comes." She was silent a moment, but finally managed a smile. "Cast your spell. You have as much time as I have arrows."

"Maker go with you," Dellis said after a deep breath.

"And you, Dellis," Leliana returned, her features firm.

"Make this quick," Dellis ordered as Dorian held out the amulet and began to work out the spell.

"I work marvelously under pressure," the Tevinter mage promised with a smirk. Dellis turned to look back toward the entrance.  Having given up his bow to Leliana, he couldn't even help them.

The door burst open without warning. Cassandra rushed forward to greet the oncoming horde of demons and Venatori. With righteous zeal she launched into a terror demon with her shield, knocking it the ground without mercy, and turned to face her next foe. She spun on her heel to hack at another demon trying to pass her toward Leliana, cleaving it cleanly in half.

Leliana rained a hail of arrows on everything that moved, including Cassandra. The Seeker had to raise her shield the block more than one stray arrow. The demons and Venatori fell like sheets before her rage until a Venatori arrow sliced through her shoulder. Instinctively Dellis moved forward to help, stopped only by a strong hand on his arm.

"If you move everyone will die," Dorian shouted, pulling him back toward the amulet. Dellis relented, but watched on as Leliana lanced out at the Venatori with her bow itself, using it far more effectively without arrows than Dellis had ever wielded a sword.

"Watch out!" Dellis turned his head toward the voice but was met only with the loud screech of a terror demon. It had snuck up next to him while he had watched the spymaster. Before he could react, Cassandra was there, sword and shield at the ready.

Fatigued as she was, Cassandra's shield bash was not strong enough to completely phase the demon. It struck out at her in anger, ripping the shield from her grasp and sending it clattering across the stone floor. With its other arm the demon lashed out at Cassandra herself.

Dellis could hear himself cry out as the terror demon's spindly arm ripped through her chest, lifting her body into the air as her life slipped away. Dorian's grip on his arm tightened as he tried to rush forward to help her. As the demon dropped her body to the floor, Dellis could see Leliana's steely gaze settled on him as a Venatori warrior slit her throat. He could barely see her body hit the floor as Dorian hauled him into the rift.


	7. The Calm Before The Storm

It was barely dawn when his own screams woke him. Dellis bolted upright, his tunic drenched in sweat. It had been three days since they had brought the mages to Haven, and each night he suffered the same night terrors. Each night he relived those final moments before entering the time rift.

Dellis ran a hand through his hair, leaning forward on the bed and taking in a deep slow breath. After a moment he pushed off the covers, getting up from the bed and padding toward the wardrobe in his smallclothes. The sun was just peeking up over the mountains and most of Haven would still be asleep, save for the few early risers. He quickly dressed, taking a moment to make sure the lacing on his boots was tight enough to keep out the snow. Perhaps fresh air would help purge the lingering memories from his mind.

As he opened the door, the cold mountain breeze chilled his still damp skin, sending a shiver down his spine. Dellis took a moment to breathe deeply, smiling at the icy scent of the pine trees and the freshly cut lumber that would soon become trebuchets. As always, the village took on a sickly greenish tint from the Breach that still loomed in the sky. Dellis knew that sealing it was their next step, but in his heart he dreaded it.

"You didn't sleep well?"

Dellis jumped at the sound of Leliana's voice. He turned to see her leaning against the small hovel next to his, her arms crossed and her gaze intent. He let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"How long have you been there?" Dellis asked, trying and failing to sound casual.

"Long enough," the spymaster confirmed, pushing off from the shack and waving him toward her. "Come, walk with me."

With a sigh Dellis fell in step beside her as they walked toward Haven's gates. As he expected, it was far too early for the soldiers to be out. The area outside the gates was nearly deserted, save for a few small nugs that ran about playfully along the snowdrifts. Dellis smiled to himself as he noticed Leliana's amused expression. "I have two of them, you know," she mused, watching them romp through the snow.

"Nugs?" Dellis asked with a hint of a laugh.

Leliana nodded. "They're being cared for in Orlais by a friend, but I miss them." She stopped talking for several moments as they began to walk along the path leading away from Haven. "You have been having nightmares, yes?"

Dellis let out a long sigh. "Yes, but they're nothing to worry about."

"They are of your experience in Redcliffe, aren't they?" the spymaster asked. No, _accused_.

"It was difficult," Dellis admitted after a moment as they walked through the snow.

"Tell me what happened," Leliana suggested, smiling slightly at his resistant expression. "You might feel better if you talk about it."

Dellis sighed in defeat. He knew that what she said was true, but he was still uneager to relive the horrors he had experienced in Redcliffe Castle. "It's just a future that none of us want," he explained with a small shrug. "Almost everyone was dead."

"All of us?" the spymaster asked with a frown.

"Everyone but you and Cassandra," he clarified with another shrug. "Not that you were really _living_ by that time. You'd both been tortured, and..." Dellis trailed off, suddenly finding that the words wouldn't come. "I can't describe it, and believe me when I say you don't want me to.

"You were so angry about everything that had happened," he continued as Leliana listened patiently, leading him through the frosty outskirts of Haven. "It was hard to watch, knowing who you _really_ are."

"What makes you think I'm not angry?" Leliana asked with the smallest, almost unnoticeable smile.

"I have no doubts you are, judging from our conversation the other day," Dellis returned, "but it wasn't like this. This was anger at a world that should never have existed. And Cassandra..." He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling his face flush as he remembered. "She was happy to see me."

"You were probably the first friendly face she'd seen in quite some time," Leliana reminded him.

"I probably was," Dellis agreed, "though she told me she felt she should have had more faith in me."

Leliana stopped abruptly, holding a hand out to stop Dellis as well. She was silent, turning to look at the mountains. "Cassandra is complicated," the spymaster began, taking a moment to breathe in the cool mountain air. "Believe me when I say she has noticed your devotion to the Inquisition. She just doesn't know how to express it."

Dellis smiled to himself. "She said it had been an honor to fight at my side, just before she-"

The look on his face as he quickly cut himself off must have given him away. Leliana looked at him, her lips pursed and her arms crossed. "She was killed, wasn't she?"

"You both were," Dellis explained after a moment's hesitation. "You both gave your lives to protect Dorian and I so that we could get through the rift. I watch you both die every night."

His attention was drawn away from the spymaster as Dellis heard the clanking sound of swords being dropped on the steps leading toward the training camp. The recruits had begun to pour in from the village, and one poor soul could be seen scrambling to pick up the weapons he had dropped, earning a glare from Commander Cullen.

"Have you spoken to Dorian about what you both experienced?" Leliana asked as Dellis continued to watch the soldiers.

"He didn't know any of you," the Herald replied, not turning to face her. "You're my comrades, I guess. I didn't realize I felt so strongly for all of you, but.." He shrugged rather than finish the thought.

Leliana smiled up at him, putting a hand on his arm and pointing toward the village. "Perhaps we should get back," she suggested. "We have much to plan today."

Dellis agree with a nod. "Yes, finally we can seal that Breach and save the world."

* * *

"Why is he avoiding me?"

Varric was taken aback by the Seeker's gruff and altogether unexpected question. And her unexpected _presence_. Varric sat alone in the small tavern in Haven, where he had never once seen the Seeker enter in the entire time they'd been in the village. He set his mug down, looking up at the towering warrior who was giving him her very best glare. Varric couldn't be sure if she was angry with him or if it had just become a natural expression each time she saw him.

"Why is who avoiding you?" Varric returned, trying to hide the smile from his face. Of course, he knew who she was talking about, but he would never give her the satisfaction of a straight answer on the first try.

"You know exactly who I am talking about," Cassandra growled with a disgusted sigh. "Trevelyan. Why is he avoiding me? You're his friend. You _must_ know."

Varric took a long drink from his mug, amused at the Seeker's look of impatience as she dropped herself into the chair across from him. "You _did_ try to kill him, Seeker."

"I did no such thing," she protested, her eyes narrowed at him. "He asked me to train him, which I did."

Varric couldn't help but chuckle into his cup. "As I hear tell, you tackled him into the snow with your sword at his throat."

"I did not have my sword at the time," she sighed.

"But you did tackle him into the snow?"

Cassandra stared at him for a long moment. "I already apologized for that."

Varric took another sip. "I don't have anything for you, Seeker," he finally admitted. "He hasn't spoken more than a word or two to me since we came back from Redcliffe. Something must have happened."

There was silence between the two as Cassandra's glance fell toward the table, as if she were in deep thought. Without so much as a word she pushed out the chair and got up, marching out of the tavern as Varric drained the remaining contents of his mug. He waved to one of the barmaids as Sera rounded the edge of the table, claiming the now empty chair.

"Was that Her Ladyship herself?" the elf snorted as the barmaid sat two freshly filled mugs of ale in front of them. Sera grabbed one, taking a long swig before setting it down. "What've you done this time?"

"Me? Nothing!" Varric proclaimed with a laugh. "She's all bothered about the great Herald of Andraste ignoring her."

"Yeah, what's up with Trev anyway?" Sera asked with a furrowed brow. Varric knew she must be bothered by it too, to have ignored such a wonderful opportunity for a joke at the Seeker's expense.

"He hasn't talked to anyone, from what I can gather," Varric explained, taking a sip from his mug. "Something happened in that castle that has him shut up tighter than a clam."

"Magic, prob'ly," Sera snorted, taking a huge gulp of ale. Varric could notice the color fade from her face even at the mere thought of magic.

"Don't worry, Buttercup," Varric told her, the corner of his mouth pulling into a smile as she rolled her eyes at the name. "Soon we'll close up that big hole in the sky and then we can all go home."

"Lucky you with somewhere to go," Sera complained. "People like Trev and me, we ain't got a home to go back to."

"Aw, it sounds like you like us," Varric chuckled, putting a hand over his chest. "Don't worry, Buttercup. You've got more friends than just the Jennies now."

* * *

The group was quiet as they trekked through the freshly fallen snow of the Frostback mountains. The mages numbered far too greatly for horses, so the entire company traveled on foot. The fact that the snowfall was fresh only made the trip harder.

Dellis took up a position near the back of the main party, in front of the mages, and kept as quiet as he could muster. Cassandra and Leliana lead at the head of the expedition, tromping through the snow with an experienced determination that suggested they were all too eager to put an end to the nonsense of the Breach.

"You look troubled, Herald."

As he turned to address the voice Dellis could see Solas moving to catch up with him. The elven apostate had donned boots for the excursion, begrudgingly admitting that the depth of snow warranted more protection than the simple footwraps that he normally wore. He looked uncomfortable.

"Just thinking about the Breach," Dellis replied, looking up to the green monster churning in the skies above them. "Once we seal it I'm not sure where I'll go."

"I do not believe the Inquisition will dissolve that quickly," Solas chuckled, his robes whipping around him in the substantial mountain breeze. "If I am correct, then sealing the breach will not close the existing fade rifts, but will only stop them from spreading."

Dellis sighed slightly with the smallest hint of a smile. "So, my mark will still be needed, then."

The mage put a hand on the Herald's shoulder. "That, and I expect the Inquisition may continue with another purpose, perhaps."

"A purpose that I'm sure has no room for a thief from the back alleys of Denerim," the Herald chuckled.

"You give yourself no credit," Solas chided as they trudged through the snow. "You have not seen how the Inquisition rallies around you, around your energy."

"What are you talking about?"

"You have the unique gift to inspire both highborn and commoner," Solas explained, gesturing to their companions. "You have seen things no other man has. Even with all my time among the spirits of the fade I cannot fathom travelling through time as you did."

"It's not something to aspire to," Dellis told him with a shake of his head. "It only serves to remind you of the nightmare that awaits us if we should fail."

"I know what you have seen haunts you," Solas continued. "In time, if you let it, these experiences will strengthen you."

"I hope so," Dellis said with a smile, pulling his leg out of a particularly troublesome snowdrift.

"Having trouble, Boss?" Iron Bull asked with a wicked grin as he advanced on the pair.

"We can't all be lumbering hulks, Bull," the Herald laughed, finally freeing himself and continuing to plod along through the snow. He rolled his eyes as Iron Bull deftly traversed the snowdrifts without so much as a moment's hesitation.

The Iron Bull roared that deep bellowing laugh he had when Dellis had said something either particularly amusing or daft. "I offered to let you ride on my shoulders."

"I still have too much pride for that," Dellis snorted, sighing in relief as the depth of the snow seemed to diminish. The path had nearly been lost to the snowfall and if trudging through a foot of snow wasn't hard enough they were also climbing a mountain. He had too much pride to accept Bull's offer of a ride, but not nearly enough that he hadn't found himself trying to walk in the freshly trodden footsteps of those ahead of him. He could hear Bull laughing at him from behind.

"Suit yourself, Boss," the Qunari chuckled.

Finally, Dellis began to recognize the area, realizing they were far closer to the remains of the temple than he had initially thought. It wasn't long before they reached what had once been the forward camp, just outside the old mining complex. After the journey through the mountains, Cassandra called for a brief rest, allowing the mages to regain their strength before the final push to the temple.

As he saw her approach, Dellis tried to collect himself enough to behave normally. Other than a few words in the war room, he had not spoken to the Seeker since the walk to Redcliffe. He knew Cassandra had noticed his sudden silence, undoubtedly as had the rest of the group, but it was _her_ death that haunted him most. She had given her life for his in a far more literal sense than Leliana had, and though he knew, deep down, that his survival had been paramount over all others at the time, he still had the lingering doubt that it was worth it.

"Are you prepared?" Cassandra asked him, stopping several feet away and watching him closely.

"To end this madness?" Dellis asked, flexing his left hand slightly as he thought about the mark. "Yes, and then we can all get back to our lives."

"Doubtful," was her reply. Her expression was less serious than Dellis would have expected, although he knew that the chances of her life going back to normal were about as slim as his own. Having angered the Seekers and having no Divine to serve, it was likely that the end of the Inquisition would be just as trying for her as it would be if Dellis were thrust back onto the streets of Denerim.

"So, we're just going to go down there and hope my mark will seal the damn thing?" Dellis asked after an awkward moment of silence.

"With the added power of the rebel mages, Solas believes that it will work," she reminded him. "We do not know what will happen, however."

"I shall steel my resolve, then," he assured her with a forced smirk. Dellis breathed a sigh of relief as Cassandra walked away with a shake of her head. He found his eyes following her as she stopped to speak with Leliana.

"What is _up_ with you, Squiggles?"

"Squig-- What?" Dellis blurted, too confused to even formulate words. Varric broke into a deep bellowing laughter he'd never heard before.

"You didn't like any of the other names I picked for you," Varric explained, trying to stop laughing, "so you're Squiggles."

"No!" Dellis shouted, turning several heads. Varric shrugged with a wicked smile.

"Too late, Trevelyan," the dwarf told him, his smile growing larger by the moment. Dellis sighed loudly, but deep within where he wouldn't admit he could feel a grin bubbling to the surface.

"What did you want, Varric?"

"You've got the Seeker so bothered by your neglect that she won't even make those disgusted noises at you anymore," the dwarf explained with a cockeyed smile. "Can you believe she came to _me_ asking why you were avoiding her?"

"She did?" Dellis asked, furrowing his brow. "I thought she'd see it as an improvement."

"She's probably just concerned you've lost your mind," Varric shrugged.

Dellis chuckled at the comment. "That's always a possibility."

"Well, Squiggles, whenever you're ready to come back to reality there'll be a mug of ale waiting for you at the tavern."

"Thanks, Varric," Dellis smiled. "You're a better friend than I deserve."

The break was woefully short and before long the group pressed on. Dellis shivered as he could see charred bodies sticking up from the snow. Soon they passed through the outskirts and arrived at the main chamber. The outer edges of the room still glowed an eerie red from the numerous red lyrium deposits. The center was awash in green from the rift leading to the Breach itself.

"If you seal that," Solas told him as they jumped down, pointing to the rift, "the Breach should be closed."

"Are you sure?" Dellis asked, looking at his hand as it glowed brightly. He had not seen it like this before. The mark seemed to intensify, enveloping his entire hand nearly down to the middle of his forearm. It was as if the mark itself yearned to close the Breach.

"Nothing is ever certain," Solas returned with a small hint of a smile. As Dellis took a step toward the rift, Solas and Cassandra turned their attention to the group of mages who had taken up positions behind them.

"Mages, stand ready," Cassandra barked, causing several of them to straighten.

"Focus your energies on the Herald," Solas ordered. "Let his will draw your power from you so that the Breach can be sealed once and for all."

As he walked toward the rift reaching up toward the Breach, Dellis could feel a sudden resistance, as if the rift itself was pushing him away. He dug the tips of his boots into the snow-covered cobblestones, his mark snarling as he moved ever closer. Finally he broke through, throwing his hand up at the rift and feeling the energy flow through him as if he were nothing more than a conduit.

This time the energy felt different. He could feel a burning through his whole body as the tendrils of energy arced out from his hand toward the rift above. The rift seethed angrily, its green light blazing brighter and brighter still. Finally, with an angry growl the rift erupted, flinging Dellis backward toward the mages.

He breathed deeply for a moment as he laid there, sprawled out on his back. A smile began to spread across his face as he looked at the sky.

"Are you alright?" came Cassandra's voice. Dellis looked up at her, seeing her face awash with concern. He could hear cheering in the background from the mages and other soldiers.

Dellis took the Seeker's outstretched hand, groaning as he got to his feet. "It's done," he told her with a small smile.

"You did it," she said, returning the smile. "The Breach is gone."


	8. An Unquenchable Flame

There had been celebrations for days after the Breach had been sealed. The sky was scarred, still showing the remnants of the green monster that had once occupied its space, but the Breach itself was gone and no new fade rifts had been reported by the Inquisition's scouts. Solas had been right, however, that existing rifts still remained, so the Inquisition would continue to be a key player in the aftermath.

Dellis sighed deeply into his mug, once again hiding in the tavern. Sera had stopped by earlier, but had quickly lost interest in the quiet and boring human. He still hadn't slept soundly in the days since closing the Breach, and despite all the attention he was receiving as the newest hero of Thedas, Dellis was doing his best to avoid as many people as he could. He wasn't used to people noticing him at all, much less for something positive.

Dellis rolled his eyes as he heard the clink of a mug being set down across from him. He was expecting to look up to see Varric, or possibly even Dorian as of late, but a sigh caught halfway in his throat as he saw Cassandra pull out the chair and take a seat across from him.

"I didn't know you drank," was the first thing that came to mind. Dellis winced before the words even finishing leaving his mouth, though his expression softened as he heard a small laugh escape the Seeker's mouth.

"On occasion," Cassandra confessed, watching him as she took a sip from the mug.

"I've never seen you here before," Dellis continued, still in a bit of a haze. He thought the tavern would be the safest place to _avoid_ the Seeker.

"We needed to talk and I assumed this is the last place you would expect me to come," she explained, seeming amused at the vacant expression on his face. "We must be able to work together in order for the Inquisition to be successful. You have not spoken more than a few words to me for over a week."

Dellis sighed, looking down at the swirling froth of ale at the bottom of his mug. It was true and he knew it. He had been avoiding everyone, but mostly Cassandra. Every time he saw her, he saw the broken battered woman in Redcliffe wasting her life to save him.

"I'm sorry," Dellis finally said, half into his mug. "Redcliffe was... upsetting." He risked glancing up at her. She watched him like a hawk, her fingers threaded together and resting on top of the mug. "I'll get through this, though. I'm committed to the Inquisition."

"I believe you," she announced, pausing a moment to take another drink. "Tell me what happened."

Dellis shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The only person he'd told anything to had been Leliana, and even that was difficult. Finally, he simply shrugged. "The Elder One beat us."

"That cannot be the entire story, Dellis."

He felt a chill run up his spine at the sound of his own name. In the four months he had been in Haven he had never once heard her use it. In fact, he hadn't been certain she even _knew_ his name, beyond Trevelyan or Herald.

"Maybe not," he finally admitted, taking a long swig from the mug. "I've been with you all for a while a now and I guess..." he paused, considering his next words. "I guess I began to think of you all a bit like family without realizing it."

"Family can be overrated," Cassandra said with a modest smile, taking another sip from her mug.

"Says the princess," Dellis chuckled, laughing even harder as her face fell in annoyance. "Come now, even the uneducated peasants like me have heard of the great Pentaghasts of Nevarra."

Cassandra narrowed her eyes at him, almost as if deciding whether or not to throttle him from across the table. Finally, she simply shook her head and took another long swig from her mug. "I am seventy-eighth in line for the Nevarran throne," she explained. "The likelihood of my claim to royal blood ever amounting to anything are slim to none."

"Seventy-eighth in line sounds awfully cushy to me," Dellis shrugged, returning his attention to his mug.

"Don't change the subject," Cassandra returned, giving him a determined look.

"You all died," he blurted, pausing a moment to collect himself. Cassandra watched intently, but made no motion to interrupt. Dellis knew that he couldn't tell her the whole truth, but perhaps a half-truth would do well enough. "Leliana survived long enough to help Dorian and I make it back through the rift, but she was killed by the Venatori just as we made it back."

"Watching her death is what bothers you?" Cassandra asked from behind her mug. Dellis was sure he choked just slightly as the words found their way to his ears.

"Something like that," he agreed with a half-hearted smile. "The Elder One invaded the south with a demon army after killing Empress Celene. That world was the stuff of nightmares." He paused as she watched him, quickly draining the last of his mug. "I would do _anything_ to prevent that world from becoming a reality."

Dellis was in the middle of waving over the barmaid when a large commotion could be heard from outside the tavern. The two exchanged looks before getting up to investigate. As Dellis opened the door to the tavern, he was nearly trampled by a group running toward the Chantry.

"What is going on?" Cassandra asked, stopping a terrified-looking woman.

"We're under attack!" the woman shouted, quickly pulling away and bounding off toward the Chantry.

"Quickly," Cassandra shouted as Dellis grumbled under his breath and retrieved his bow from the rack outside the tavern, "we must find Cullen."

"Right behind you," Dellis told her, breaking into a jog. Cassandra headed for the city gates, where they both knew it was likely for Cullen to be.

"Cullen, report," Cassandra barked as the two approached the Commander, who waited patiently at the gates.

"We have several scouts reporting that there is a massive force out in the mountains," he explained, pointing past the gates. Dellis could just barely make out the tiny pinpricks of light that represented torches.

"Under what banner?" Cassandra demanded.

"None," Cullen replied.

"None?" Dellis asked, his tone filled with surprise. "How is that possible?"

Their conversation was interrupted by the sounds of battle just outside the heavy gates. The gate itself had been sealed and locked tight before their arrival, but muffled voices could be heard from the other side.

"I can't come in unless you open!"

Dellis hesitated a moment. If he asked Cullen, the Commander would say the risk was too great, but the voice he had heard could not have belonged to anyone but a boy. Without waiting for an argument, Dellis rushed forward and called upon all his strength to lift the heavy plank of wood barring the gate, much to Cullen's disapproval. As the plank fell, Dellis pulled the doors open, revealing a boy of no more than twenty surrounded by slain templars. Dellis cringed as he recognized them as the tainted templars from Redcliffe castle.

"My name is Cole," the young man announced, directly to Dellis and sounding flustered. He completely ignored Cullen and Cassandra. "I've come to warn you, and to help."

"To warn me of what?" Dellis asked, his eyes flitting toward the incoming templar soldiers.

"The templars have come here," Cole explained in hushed tones. "They have come here to kill _you_."

"Templars?" Cullen barked, approaching and causing the boy to retreat several steps.

"These aren't templars," Dellis interrupted, putting a hand on the Commander's arm to halt his advance. "Look at them, Cullen. They're changed."

"You saw these things in Redcliffe," Cassandra realized, prompting a nod of confirmation from the Herald.

"The red templars went to the Elder One," Cole explained, his large hat throwing shadows across his face. He turned and pointed toward the mountains. Dellis could barely make out the shape of a man and... something else. Something he was sure was not human, or elven, or anything he had ever seen before.

"He is _very_ angry that you took his mages," Cole continued.

"That is a _lot_ of templars," Dellis cautioned, turning to the two warriors beside him. "What's our plan?"

"This village is not as defensible as I would like," Cullen grumbled. "We'll need to control the battlefield if we're going to survive this assault."

"We must defend the trebuchets," Cassandra suggested. "Without them we will surely be overrun."

Cullen turned his attention to one of the recruits. "You, boy," he bellowed, pointing to the young man who looked like he might nearly faint. "Go find Leliana and tell her to gather the others."

"Y-yes sir," the boy stammered before running off toward the gates.

"The rest of you have leave to attack," Cullen shouted to the mixed group of mages and soldiers. "That is Samson out there and he will not show you mercy."

Dellis frowned at the spiteful tone in Cullen's voice as he said the man's name. Samson must have been the man standing with the Elder One, and it was clear that Cullen knew this man. The Herald surveyed the battlefield as Cullen continued with his rallying speech, noting that the red templar forces were drawing dangerously close. As Cassandra moved forward, Dellis spotted an outcropping of rock that would give him a perfect vantage point. He quickly climbed atop it just in time to see templar forces cresting the hill leading to the trebuchets.

Cassandra charged into the fray, closely followed by dozens of Inquisition soldiers and Commander Cullen himself. Dellis quickly pulled an arrow out of his quiver and nocked it, pulling back the string and pausing only a moment to select a target. He let the arrow loose, watching it streak toward one of the templars. The archer, who wore significantly lighter armor than the front line templar soldiers, had clearly not expected a ranged attack so quickly. The arrow pierced the leather of his armor and sent him sprawling backward into the snow.

"Protect the trebuchets!" Cassandra's voice boomed across the battlefield. Dellis turned his attention to a group of templars who had managed to punch through the main line and now approached the nearest trebuchet. He quickly pulled an arrow out and fired, knowing that against the well-armored templar soldiers they would do little more than annoy them. The arrow splashed harmlessly off his target's helmet, sending him stumbling slightly. Cassandra capitalized on his momentary lack of focus, bowling him over with her shield and plunging her sword down into his exposed neck.

Dellis pulled out another arrow, this time aiming at another soldier charging the trebuchet crew. The arrow whistled through the frosty air, lancing out toward the heavily-armored templar. It pierced the templar's leg behind the knee, causing him to lose balance and tumble into the snow. The soldiers manning the trebuchet made short work of him.

"We've got this one," one of the soldiers at the trebuchet shouted. "Help the others!"

"Herald, come," Cassandra ordered, prompting Dellis to jump down from his rocky perch and join her. "We must ensure the second trebuchet is protected."

"I'll cover you," Dellis barked back, readying another arrow as he fell in step behind her. The second trebuchet was not far, but the templars had arrived in force, covering every inch of the battlefield. Dellis fired arrow after arrow as Cassandra pushed forward toward their objective, hoping to at least distract the enemy long enough for her to dispatch them. He afforded himself a smirk as he realized how well their skills synergized.

"They're dead," Cassandra declared as the trebuchet came into view. Dellis could see the bodies of the crew sprawled on the ground, templar knights surrounding them and seemingly looking for a way to dismantle the siege weapon.

Without hesitation Dellis nocked an arrow and fired at the templar nearest to the trebuchet. The arrow struck him in the shoulder, leaving a tear in the leather pauldron and knocking him forward into the machine. Dellis breathed a sigh of relief to see Iron Bull and Blackwall running to join them.

Dellis pulled out another arrow, quickly firing off a shot at an archer who seemed to think she was cleverly disguised behind a tree in the distance. The arrow pierced her eye socket, leaving her in a heap at the base of the trunk.

"Quick, Trevelyan," Cassandra shouted. "Arm the trebuchet!"

"We'll cover you, Herald," Blackwall agreed, pinning a templar soldier the ground with his shield.

Dellis quickly hooked his bow over his shoulder and broke off toward the trebuchet at a sprint. Without hesitation he gripped the winch wheel and began to pull, gritting his teeth at the resistance. Bit by bit the wheel turned, pulling the heavy arm down. Finally, the arm locked in place, allowing Dellis to roll the large stone into the sling. With a quick kick of his foot he hit the release, pulling down the counterweight and launching the payload at the mountains. With a mighty crack that could be heard even at a distance, the boulder struck the mountain, triggering an avalanche that quickly swallowed the remaining red templar forces.

"I guess when we decide to do something, we go big," Bull mused as he ripped his great axe out of the chest of one of the templar soldiers.

"You know me," Dellis said with a confident smile. There was barely time to look up as the sound of cheering was abruptly broken by a loud screech. The group was roughly thrown to the ground as a fireball devoured the trebuchet next to them.

"Is that a bloody dragon?" Blackwall shouted as he hauled himself to his feet, his shield ready.

"We must make for the village," Cassandra ordered. "It _is_ a dragon and we cannot defend against it out here."

The four quickly fled for the gates of Haven. Bodies littered the landscape, both Inquisition and templar alike. Ahead of them Dellis could see Cullen waving soldiers into the village. They would be the last to make it to safety.

"Quickly, come on!" Cullen shouted. As the four entered, he pulled the massive doors shut, lifting the beam to seal it with Bull's help.

"The Chantry is the best place to regroup," Cassandra suggested, a determined look on her face.

"Yes, it is the only building well-fortified enough to provide any semblance of protection from that... _beast_ ," Cullen agreed, his features haggard. "At this point, just make them work for it."

"Don't give up yet, Commander," Dellis replied, turning to Bull and Blackwall. "Go, help as many as you can. Get them to the Chantry."

"You got it, Boss," Bull agreed with his usual lopsided smile. Weapons in hand, the two men took off in search of any stragglers.

"Trevelyan, with me," Cassandra commanded, her sword still in hand. "Commander, good luck."

"And to you, Seeker."

"Look over there," Dellis said, pointing to the tavern. The entire structure was on fire and people could still be seen streaming out of it.

Without response, Cassandra began moving toward the building, shield at the ready as if awaiting an ambush. Dellis had an arrow ready just in case. As if on cue, templar soldiers bounded over the wooden barricades, one of them nearly toppling Cassandra as she turned her shield toward the threat. Dellis fired his arrow at the templar, throwing it off balance and allowing her to land a killing blow.

"I'm not really well equipped for this," he apologized with a shrug as the last templar fell. He reached down to pick up one of the arrows just as he heard a noise from behind him. As he turned, he saw a templar soldier advancing too quickly for Cassandra to block. Instinctively Dellis fit the arrow in the string of his bow and pulled it back, taking only a moment to aim before loosing it. The arrow sailed forward at the advancing templar, striking him right in the slit of his helmet. He doubled over backward, stumbling to the ground.

Cassandra glanced down at the body before returning her gaze to Dellis, an eyebrow cocked in amusement. "Impressive."

Dellis reached back to retrieve another arrow but found only air. "Well, I guess that was the last one."

"Let us hope we meet no further resistance then," she replied.

"Since I'm bloody awful with a sword?" Dellis offered, pleased at the smile and slight shake of her head that told him the Seeker no longer found him entirely irritating.

The two quickly entered the tavern, helping Maryden clear out the rest of the survivors. After assuring that no other civilians remained, the two returned the Chantry where they found Cullen and the rest of the group waiting, as well as the remaining survivors of the attack. Chancellor Roderick had been wounded protecting unarmed civilians from the templar horde and Cole was attending to him, though things looked grim.

"Things aren't looking too bright for the Chancellor," Dorian whispered as Dellis and Cassandra approached.

"He's going to die," Cole said casually as he helped the Chancellor toward the back of the Chantry.

"Charming lad," Roderick croaked, leaning with most of his weight on the young man. Cullen's approach cut off any further discussion they might have had with the pair.

"Our position is not good," the Commander explained. "That blasted dragon stole back any time you might have gained us with the avalanche." The former templar sighed in defeat. "That dragon cut a path straight to the Chantry. They'll slaughter everyone."

"The Elder One does not care for the village," Cole interrupted, having found the Chancellor a chair to rest in. "He only wants the Herald."

"He wants me?" Dellis asked, his brow furrowed.

"There are no tactics to make this survivable," Cullen interrupted, his face looking grim. "The only thing that slowed them was the avalanche. We could turn the remaining trebuchet and cause one last slide."

"They're in the village," Dellis reminded him. "The only way to do that would be..."

"To bury Haven," Cassandra finished.

"You'd kill everyone just to go out with a bang?" Dellis asked. "There must be another option."

"Chancellor Roderick can help." All heads turned toward the newest member of the group. Cole knelt next to the ailing Chancellor, his giant hat half covering his face. "He wants to say it before he dies."

"There is a path," the Chancellor uttered weakly. "You wouldn't know it unless you made the summer pilgrimage as I have." With great effort he pushed himself to his feet, wincing as he held his side. "The people can escape. She must have shown me. Andraste must have shown me so I could tell you."

Dellis turned his attention to the Commander. "What do you think, Cullen?"

"If the path exists in may be our best chance," he agreed with a slight smile.

"Work with Roderick and get the people ready," Dellis ordered. Cullen nodded and turned back toward the crowds as Cole helped Roderick to follow. Dellis turned his attention to one of the nearby soldiers. "You," he said, getting the man's attention. "I need your quiver."

"What are you doing?" Cassandra demanded as he took the new quiver, switching his own empty one out for the freshly filled replacement.

"Someone has to turn that trebuchet," he answered, tightening the strap on the quiver.

"I will go with you."

"It's too risky," Dellis refused with a shake of his head, taking a step toward the Chantry doors.

"I wasn't offering," Cassandra objected as she moved to follow him.

Dellis stopped and turned toward her, his featured steeled. "And I said no," he told her sternly. "He wants _me_ , not you."

"You will die out there, Herald," she returned, obviously angry. "The Inquisition needs you. Your mark is the only thing that can close the rifts."

"If I stay here we all die," Dellis reminded her. "You saw the Elder One. He wants me and my going out there is the only thing that will give all of you the time you need to escape."

"Then let me help you," Cassandra implored, her features softening.

Dellis sighed. "The Inquisition needs you," he finally said, gripping his bow so tightly that his knuckles began to pale. "I know you don't want to lead but you're all they've got." He paused, though the Seeker said nothing. "I told you I'd do whatever it takes to ensure the future I saw in Redcliffe doesn't come to pass, and I mean what I say."

There was silence between the two for what seemed to be an eternity. Finally, Cassandra took a step forward, pulling a knife out the sheath at her thigh and reaching behind him to place it in his.

"Stay alive, Herald," she ordered, her face grim. "Should the worst come to pass, however, it has been my honor to fight at your side."

His breath caught in his throat as he heard the words but Dellis simply nodded and turned toward the Chantry doors. Fires burned throughout the village but the templars were mysteriously gone, as if they had retreated. Wasting no further time, Dellis broke off at a sprint toward the last remaining trebuchet. Unsurprisingly it was pointing away from Haven. Grabbing hold of the winch wheel, Dellis began to turn it on Haven, knowing that only an avalanche from the closest peak could bury the village.

Dellis had nearly gotten it turned around when he heard the now familiar screech of the dragon. The trebuchet locked into place with a loud clunk just as Dellis managed to dive for cover. The fiery breath from the dragon caught him just close enough to send the rogue flying. He landed with a grunt, wincing in pain and feeling the radiant heat from the burning flames as he tried to push himself to his feet.

As he turned his head toward the fire, Dellis could make out an unfamiliar figure approaching. As it neared he could now tell it was the Elder One itself. The creature stood nearly twice as tall as a man and the closer it got the less excited Dellis was to face it. It had long spindly arms, not terribly unlike the terror demons that haunted him, but had the face of a man. A face that appeared twisted, as if burned or even melted. Its face was disfigured into a permanent and menacing snarl. Whatever armor the creature had once worn had fused with its body, now becoming one and the same.

Dellis nearly lost his balance as the ground shook. With a roar the dragon barreled into the small alcove housing the trebuchet. Dellis braced himself as the dragon bounded straight toward him. He was too frozen in fear to even brandish a weapon, but despite its horrifically close proximity, the snarling dragon made no attempt to attack.

"Enough!" the Elder One barked, calming the dragon and gaining the Herald's attention. " _Pretender_ ," he hissed. "You toy with forces beyond your ken. _No more_."

"What are you?" Dellis shouted back. "Why are you doing this?"

"Why do I do this?" the Elder One repeated. "Because you are my enemy. Because you stand in the way of destined power. _Because I can_."

"I never asked to be your enemy," Dellis returned.

"Your will is irrelevant," the Elder One dismissed him with a wave of his hand. "Exalt the Elder One. The _will_ that is Corypheus!"

Dellis took a deep breath, committing the name to memory just in case he _actually_ made it out of Haven alive. As Corypheus stared him down he began to think. Though Dellis was perfectly willing to sacrifice his life to stop this madman, he would naturally rather live to fight another day. His mind drifted to the sealed tunnels behind him. He hadn't paid much attention when Leliana had mentioned them, something he suddenly regretted, but if his memory hadn't completely abandoned him they had been used by the Cult of Andraste and would likely lead through the mountains. It could be a way out.

"You will kneel," Corypheus promised, stretching out a lanky arm.

"I will not," Dellis growled in return, setting his jaw and staring the Elder One in the eyes.

"You will resist," Corypheus purred, as if amused at the human's bumbling. In his left hand he held a sphere. "It matters not."

As he looked at the sphere a magic seemed to surround it. Red tendrils played upon its surface, giving it an eerie glow as the Elder One looked upon it.

"I am here for the _anchor_ ," the Elder One growled. "The process of removing it begins now."

Without warning, Corypheus extended his right hand, a burst of red energy streaming out toward Dellis. Suddenly the mark flared, brighter and more painful than ever.

"It is your fault, _Herald_ ," Corypheus accused, the title dripping with disdain. "You interrupted a ritual years in the planning. And instead of _dying_ you stole its purpose!" Dellis's arm continued to burn, though he winced and kept his eyes focused on Corypheus. "I do not know how you survived, but what marks you as _touched_ , what you flail at rifts, I crafted to assault the very heavens."

With a burst of magical energy Dellis felt a burning hot pain wrack his entire body. He cried out as he collapsed to his hands and knees, the dragon grumbling in the background as it loomed ever closer. He could feel the creature's hot breath on him as Corypheus neared.

"You used the anchor to undo my work!" Corypheus snarled. "The _gall!_ "

"Take it!" Dellis pleaded, momentarily wishing for nothing but an end to the pain. "I don't want it!"

The Elder One moved forward in a fluid motion, gripping Dellis by the arm and yanking him not only to his feet, but several feet in the air. He dangled there by his arm, eye to eye with the Elder One, wondering if perhaps his luck had finally run dry.

"I once breached the fade in the name of another, to serve the Old Gods of the empire _in person_ ," Corypheus barked, his face full of as much rage as it was capable of expressing in its mutilated form. "I found only chaos and corruption. Dead whispers. For a thousand years I was confused. _No more_.

"I have gathered the _will_ to return under no name but my own, to champion withered Tevinter and correct this blighted world," Corypheus continued. Dellis's eyes briefly narrowed at the mention of Tevinter. He knew now that he must find a way to survive if only to tell the others what he had learned. "Beg that I succeed, for I have seen the throne of the gods and _it was empty!_ "

With no further words the Elder One hurled Dellis at the trebuchet. He hit it with his back, groaning loudly as one of the beams cracked under the strain. He laid there for a moment, waiting for the pain to subside, before finally pushing himself to his feet and leaning on the trebuchet for support.

"The anchor is permanent," Corypheus growled. "You have _spoiled it_ with your stumbling."

In desperation, Dellis scrambled to grab a sword that had been left next to the trebuchet. He held it out defensively as both Corypheus and the dragon advanced.

"So be it. I will begin again, find another way to give this world the nation - and _god_ \- it requires."

It did not take Dellis long to remember where he stood and what his objective was. His eyes wandered to the mountains behind Haven and he realized he was standing next to an aimed and loaded trebuchet and it was pointed right where he needed it to be.

"And you," the Elder One continued. "I will not suffer even an unknowing rival. You _must_ die."

"Good luck with that, ugly," Dellis remarked with a smirk, turning and kicking the release. The counterweight plummeted, launching the weapon's payload directly into the snowy peak behind the village.

As Corypheus and the dragon both turned to address the new threat, Dellis broke off at a sprint toward the sealed entrance to the tunnels. He could hear the dragon roar behind him but didn't risk turning to see how close it was. Turning his body, he barreled shoulder first straight into the boards covering the tunnel entrance, splintering them and falling into the caverns below.


	9. Into the Storm

The air was cold and the sound of dripping water echoed off the cavern walls. Dellis groaned as he laid on the wet stone surface, his eyes shut tight as his body ached. He had wondered if being thrown into the trebuchet might have broken a rib or two, and the fall to the cavern floor had done nothing to improve his condition. Pain radiated throughout his entire body, yet he somehow managed to summon the will to drag himself to his feet.

Though his quiver was still strapped to his back, all the arrows were gone, and even had he had any left, it appeared his bow had not survived the fall. He let out a long, exasperated breath before surveying his surroundings, trying to ignore his pain. The shaft had led to a deep cavern. It appeared to have been manually excavated at least in part, likely by the Cult of Andraste, so he knew his chances of finding some kind of exit were good. He dearly hoped that the plummeting temperatures within the cave were enough to ward off the most common of vermin, such as spiders and deepstalkers.

Dellis slowly began to walk toward an open tunnel. A plank walkway covered the stone and the tunnel itself was man made, showing a craftsmanship so remarkable that he wondered if perhaps it was dwarven. Dellis chose his steps carefully, avoiding the rocks littered along the passage and gripping his side with his hand as it throbbed in pain. He had to duck beneath several stalactites as he rounded the bend, breathing a sigh of relief as he saw sunlight.

With his resolve restored, Dellis picked up his pace toward the tunnel exit, moving as quickly as he dared. As he reached the mouth of the cavern, his spirits faded as he saw what seemed to be a white wall of snow, leaving him wondering how long he'd been laying on that cavern floor. As soon as he stepped from the protection of the cavern walls, the bitter cold of the Frostbacks ripped through his coat, sending a chill through his entire body. If he had thought the cavern was cold, then the mountains themselves were hellishly frozen.

Taking a step forward into the snow, Dellis tried to gain his bearings. He knew it was most likely that the Inquisition survivors would have headed for the tree line west of Haven, but with the wind kicking up the newly fallen snow, it was almost impossible to see more than a few feet.

As he took another step, Dellis groaned as he sunk down past his ankles, slowly trudging across the frozen landscape and saying a quick prayer to the Maker as he searched for his companions.

* * *

The survivors of Haven had made it through the pathway Roderick had shown them, losing no one to the avalanche or the howling storm. With so many civilians, the decision had been made to set up camp, though if they were being honest the camp would likely remain until a decision was made about where to go. With Haven gone, the Inquisition had no base of operations, and the closest settlement was Redcliffe.

Cassandra paced through the camp, watching as Cullen and Leliana argued about where they should go. She felt hopeless with so many to care for and so few options. She remembered the Herald's words, that she was all the Inquisition had to lead them, and it terrified her.

"I can hear him," a small voice said. Cassandra turned her head to see Cole standing behind her.

"What are you talking about?" she asked with a puzzled look on her face. "You can hear Cullen?"

"He's cold, so cold," Cole mumbled, not making eye contact with the Seeker. "He hurts, but he knows he must survive. He must find them. Save them. Help them."

"Explain," Cassandra demanded, taking him by the arm. He barely even flinched.

"So cold," the young man continued in a detached tone. "I can't... so much pain..."

"You can feel him, can't you?" Solas interjected from behind them, drawing Cassandra's attention. Cole looked at him, almost like a dog with its head cocked, showing no emotion.

"He's trying to find us," Cole explained.

"Where is the Herald now?" Solas asked, an urgency in his voice.

"The Herald?" Cassandra blurted. "Trevelyan is _alive_?"

"Where?" Solas repeated, making a silencing motion at the Seeker. Cole pointed to the east.

"He is lost and in pain," Cole explained. "He'll die soon."

"We must find him," Cassandra declared, making a muted sound of disdain as Solas quickly retreated. She turned toward Cullen, who was still neck deep in his argument with the spymaster.

"We cannot stay here forever!" the Commander shouted.

"These people are hurt and exhausted," Leliana countered, her eyes fiery with passion. "We can't simply-"

"I need Cullen," Cassandra interrupted, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him away before either could protest.

"Cassandra, what's going on?" Cullen asked, briefly glancing over his shoulder to see Leliana looking equally confused.

"Trevelyan is alive," she revealed. "We must find him before he freezes."

"He survived the avalanche?" Cullen asked, his shock plain.

"Cole says he is to the east, though I know not where specifically," she explained, pointing in the general direction that Cole had just moments earlier.

"I'll round up some of the soldiers that are still hale," Cullen offered, his jaw clenched tightly in conviction. "We can split up and search."

Cassandra nodded in approval. "We _must_ find him, Commander," she insisted. "If we do not I fear the Inquisition will fall."

* * *

The bitterly cold wind had not abated and Dellis could no longer feel his fingers, despite having shoved them as far into his jacket as he could. He could feel ice beginning to form in the stubble on his cheeks, and it was all he could do not to tumble face first into the snow after every foot fall.

_I'm going to die out here. I'm going to freeze, or those damn wolves will eat me._

The howling had begun no less than ten minutes earlier but he could hear the wolves in the distance. He had adjusted his path to move as far from the sounds as possible but at the cost of completely losing his bearings. He now had no idea which direction he was headed or if he'd ever find shelter.

His teeth chattered and his body shuddered as it tried to alleviate its plummeting temperature. The depth of the snow continued to increase. Dellis was now nearly knee deep in fresh snow, the wind still whipping up the flakes into a white wall before him.

_I can't give up. The Inquisition needs me. They need the anchor. But Maker is it cold... It's so cold..._

Finally, he could move no further. His legs simply would not be willed to continue. Dellis stood there, shivering as the wind swirled around him, the tempest refusing to abate. The howling continued behind him, and for a moment he considered just letting the wolves have him. Letting them put an end to the misery and the pain.

_You're better than this_.

This time the voice in his head wasn't his, but rather Varric's. Dellis had confessed on several occasions that he was apprehensive about his growing role in the Inquisition. As the weeks had dragged on, he had been expected to regularly engage with the war council, and more and more decisions had been thrust on his shoulders. Dellis had brushed off the new responsibilities. An outlaw from the slums should have no place of respect among an organization such as this.

_You're better than this, Squiggles._ Dellis smiled at the nickname he pretended to hate. _Inside that nefarious chest of your beats the heart of a true noble._

Varric believed in him. Sera, who didn't believe in much of _anything_ , never hesitated to follow him to the most dangerous places in all of Thedas without question. Even Vivienne seemed to tolerate him, despite the fact that she had spent most of her time in the Orlesian courts with _actual_ nobles. She had even once said he was charming.

_They're my family. I can't give up yet._

Dellis took another step, groaning against the towering mounds of snow pushing again his each and every stride. He could hear his own shuddering voice with each puff of frozen breath as his body desperately tried to fight against its own desire to give in to the storm.

The howling seemed like it was closer as he pushed ahead through the snow, willing his body to do what it wanted to refuse. He could no longer feel his feet and could barely feel the rest of his legs, so he could only trust that they were indeed moving.

Dellis stopped abruptly as the howling was drowned out by snarling. He turned his head to the left as far as he could to see a wolf standing no more than fifty paces away. Had he been in better condition he could have reacted quickly enough, but as he was half frozen he could not stop the wolf's attack.

In a flash of black fur, the wolf leapt at Dellis, fangs bared, and latched on to his outstretched arm, knocking him backwards into the snow. He cried out in pain as the teeth ripped through jacket and flesh, burying themselves deep into his skin. With his right hand he dug through snow, pushing the pain of the attack and biting cold of the icy snow, until he felt the hard metal handle of the knife at his back. He ripped it out through the snow and stabbed wildly at the snarling beast, sinking the blade deep into its neck. The wolf released its hold on his arm, staggering back a few steps before falling lifelessly in a heap.

Dellis panted as he laid there, bleeding from his arm and shaking both from the bitter cold and the adrenaline of the attack. The howling of both the wolves and the wind continued and he realized he no longer had the strength to get to his feet.

* * *

Several search parties had been sent to look for the Herald after Cole had announced that he had lived through the avalanche. Cassandra and Cullen had each taken a pair of soldiers and split up, hoping to ensure that no one was lost in the blinding storm that raged just past the crest of the ridge where they had taken refuge.

After about a half hour of searching Cassandra had unexpectedly run into Cullen's group, their paths having crossed deep into the storm. As the storm worsened, Cullen and Cassandra had decided to remain together in their search.

Cassandra held her shield up to block the wind, trying to keep her teeth from chattering as the chill crept past her armor. She knew that as cold as she felt, with all the extra padding her armor afforded her, the Herald must be in far worse condition. If they did not find him soon, she knew they would not find him alive.

"It sounds like there are wolves ahead," one of the soldiers mentioned nervously, just barely loud enough to be heard over the howling wind.

"We are more than a match for a few beasts," Cullen replied. He paused briefly, squinting ahead into the distance. "What is that?"

"Looks like a dead wolf," one of the soldiers suggested as Cassandra lowered her shield just enough see what they were looking at. There was indeed what appeared to be a black wolf laying in the snow, but something else beyond.

"Maker's breath, it's Trevelyan!" Cullen shouted, running ahead as quickly as the snow would allow him. The rest of the party followed suit, rushing toward the body laying in the snow.

Cassandra's breath hitched as Cullen knelt down next to the Herald, checking for signs of life. Blood from a wound on his arm, likely courtesy of the wolf, had turned a small patch of snow around him a deep red. Her eyes drifted to the animal next to him. It was gaunt, as if starving. That explained why Trevelyan had not been the victim of an entire pack, though the howling of the wolves in the distance had not ceased.

Her brow furrowed as Cassandra noticed the blade protruding from the wolf's neck. She reached down and, with a little effort, pulled the knife from the creature's body. It was the same knife she had given Trevelyan in the Chantry.

"He's still breathing," Cullen announced after a moment, sounding relieved. The Commander pulled the Herald over his shoulder and carefully lifted him onto his back, motioning for the group to head out. With the wind now at their backs the return trip to camp was far less grueling.

They had barely set foot within the Inquisition camp when Solas noticed their arrival and moved to meet them. "You found him."

"He needs healing," Cassandra grunted, dropping her shield and motioning toward one of the few tents that housed those injured during the attack on Haven. Cullen gently set the Herald down on an empty bedroll and Solas wasted no time in moving to his side. "Can you heal him?"

"I believe so," Solas said with a nod. "His external injuries are not as severe as they might seem. The internal will take time and more than magic to heal, but he will survive."

"Good to hear," Cullen said with a smile. "He's lucky he was only attacked by the one wolf with that whole pack out there."

Solas quickly turned his head toward the Commander. "He was attacked by a wolf?"

"Just a mangy starved lone wolf," Cullen explained. Solas grunted slightly but made no further comment before returning his attention to his patient.

"We still need to decide what to do," Cassandra said to Cullen.

"I agree," the Commander said with a nod. "The longer we stay here the greater the threat that the Elder One will find us."

Cassandra looked down at Trevelyan. His chest rose and fell slowly as Solas worked his healing magic, binding wounds and healing what was likely to be extensive frostbite. Shards of ice in his hair were beginning to melt as the ambient heat from the fires littering the camp washed over him and color finally began to return to his cheeks.

"Let us see what he tells us," Cassandra suggested. "Then we can decide how the Inquisition will proceed."

* * *

A small groan escaped his lips as Dellis's eyes fluttered open. For a brief moment he wondered if he was dead and this was the afterlife. After all, the last thing he remembered was being attacked by the wolf and laying there in the snow, praying for death.

"Welcome back to us, Herald," Solas said from beside him with a warm smile.

"Where am I?" Dellis mumbled toward the mage, rubbing his face with his hands.

"You're at the Inquisition camp," Solas explained. "Cullen and Cassandra found you in the storm and brought you here."

"I have to speak to them," Dellis blurted, suddenly trying to get up from the bedroll. Solas placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

"You need rest," the apostate ordered. "There will be time for talk."

"You don't understand, Solas," Dellis continued, though laying back down on the bedroll in defeat. "I met the Elder One. He said his name was Corypheus and that my mark - the anchor, he called it - was something _he_ created."

"He created the mark?" Solas mused. "For what purpose, I wonder?"

"He said he entered the Fade and that the 'throne of the gods' was empty," Dellis continued, his brow furrowing. "I don't understand what that means."

Solas was silent for a moment. "You are Andrastian, are you not?" he finally asked.

"Technically, I suppose," Dellis shrugged.

"The Chant of Light tells that Tevinter magisters breached the Golden City, blackening it and becoming the first darkspawn," Solas explained.

Dellis raised an eyebrow. "You mean to tell me you believe this Corypheus is one of the original magisters?"

"It is certainly possible," Solas nodded. "Tell me, what else did this Corypheus tell you?"

"He said the anchor was for some kind of ritual," Dellis explained, "and he had this magical orb. He tried to remove the mark from my hand with it, but couldn't."

"An orb, you say?" Solas paused, as if deep in thought. "The orb is elven in origin."

"How can you know that?" Dellis asked. "You didn't even see it."

"Your description is enough," Solas explained. "I have studied the ancient elves in great detail. Corypheus must have used the orb to open the Breach. Unlocking it must have been what caused the explosion that destroyed the Conclave."

"You sound convinced of this," Dellis replied. "People won't react well if they find out it's elven magic that killed the Divine."

"Indeed, I fear you may be correct," Solas nodded. "These orbs were ancient foci, used to channel powerful magic. I have seen such things in the Fade. Old memories of older magic."

Dellis chuckled lightly. "He thinks it's Tevinter, doesn't he?"

"He may believe so," Solas agreed. "His empire's magic was built on the bones of my people."

"He is awake?" a voice called from beyond them. Dellis looked up to see Cassandra approaching.

"So much for rest," Solas told him quietly, a small smile on his face. "Good day to you, Seeker."

"He is recovered?" she asked brusquely.

"As much as possible, given my limited healing skills," Solas returned. "Some of his injuries will simply take time."

"I'm right here," Dellis reminded them, now sitting up. He winced slightly, still sore, but was now properly thankful that Solas had somehow managed to almost completely heal the wolf's bite.

"Herald, we must discuss how we will move forward with the Inquisition," Cassandra continued, her expression softer than usual.

"I may be able to help with that," Solas offered. "There is a fortress to the north of Haven that has been abandoned for some time. Tarsyl'an Te'las, the place where the sky was held back."

"It's elven?" Dellis asked.

"It was, at one time, but has changed hands numerous times over the years."

"How is it that you know of this, Solas?" Cassandra asked hesitantly.

"I have learned of many things in the Fade, Seeker," Solas explained. "This is a place where we can rebuild."

"You're sure this Tarsyl'an Te'las," Dellis asked, slowly repeating the elven words, "is actually abandoned?"

"Yes, Herald," Solas chuckled, "although perhaps it would be better to call it by its Fereldan name. Skyhold."


	10. Welcome to Skyhold

To call Skyhold run down would be a compliment. As the weary group first breached the gates, Dellis knew they had their work cut out for them. He was sure in years past the keep had been a fortress worthy of admiration, but now it was simply overgrown and crumbling.

"This... is not what I expected," he uttered after a moment of contemplation.

"A bit of a fixer upper," Varric agreed with a chuckle as the refugees streamed past them, looking for shelter. Cullen had already moved beyond and was barking orders to his men to set up temporary shelters for the wounded.

"We need to focus on the basics right now," Dellis suggested. "Food, water, shelter..."

"There are enough buildings intact to provide shelter for the most of these people," Leliana told him with a nod. "I can send our remaining agents to scout for food and water."

"How many remain that are well enough to be put to work?" Cassandra asked from behind them.

"Fewer than I'd like," she admitted.

"Have them focus on finding fresh water," Dellis ordered. "I can take care of food."

"Alone?" Cassandra asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I'll take Sera with me," Dellis replied with a smile.

"Wait, what?" the elf said, suddenly turning toward them.

"We're going hunting," he explained, "just as soon as I can find a bow."

"Take one from one of the recruits," Cullen suggested, unable to hold a back a smile at the flustered expression on Sera's face.

"I haven't agreed to this!" she sputtered, crossing her arms and pouting like a child.

Once they were properly equipped Dellis dragged Sera out of the keep and into the mountains. The mountains themselves afforded little in the way of concealment, so he knew that hunting would be difficult, compounded by the fact that very little lived this high into the peaks. Their best bet would be the mountain goats that wandered through the Frostbacks. If they could manage to take down three of them he was sure that would tide them over for the night.

"So, what exactly am I supposed to do?" Sera asked, her face still twisted in a pout.

"Be quiet, for one," Dellis whispered back, pulling out his bow and readying an arrow. "Goats aren't like men. You can't goad them into letting you kill them."

"Pfft, boring then." Sera giggled as the ram Dellis had been stalking ran off as it heard her.

"Really, Sera," he complained. "It's cold out here and I'm hungry."

"Fine, I'll behave," she promised, a mischievous smile on her face. It would take them a full two hours before they managed to collect enough game to feed the refugees.

"That certainly could have been worse," Dellis commented as they sat at a table in one of the buildings outside the main keep. It seemed clear that the building had once served as a tavern, judging from the layout of the musty furniture that remained.

"It's your fault for taking me with, innit?" Sera grinned, reaching into her satchel and producing a bottle of wine.

Dellis's eyes brightened. "Did you steal that from the Chantry?"

"Cullen said 'grab what you can' so I grabbed what's important, yeah?" She pulled the cork out with her teeth and took a long swig straight from the bottle before handing it to Dellis. "Pretty sure Andraste won't smite me for drinkin' Chantry wine from a Chantry that's buried in snow, now will she?"

Dellis chuckled, taking a long quaff from the bottle and sighing happily. "I think we're both safe from the Maker's ire."

Sera snorted, letting Dellis take another sip from the bottle. "You should have seen how bothered Lady Battering Ram was while you were out missing in the mountains."

It was all Dellis could do to keep from spitting wine all over the table. "Lady _what_?"

"Lady Battering Ram," Sera explained as Dellis tried to hold back a laugh. "I heard Varric telling some stupid story about Kirkwall and I'm totally stealing that name for Cassandra."

"Maybe don't say that in front of her," he suggested, finally calming himself. "What do you mean she was bothered?"

"Oh, you know, going on about how there'd be nobody to close the rifts, blah blah blah, the Inquisition will fall apart without the Herald, blah blah," Sera mocked. "Bloody whiner, that one."

"That's an odd thought," Dellis returned, his brow furrowing slightly. "I'm not used to being indispensable."

"Don't let it go to that pretty head of yours, Trev."

He grinned at her. "You think I'm pretty, do you?"

"Don't be stupid," she laughed. "You're not my type."

"I am _fully_ aware of that, Sera," Dellis replied with a smile, handing the bottle back to her, "but surely we can all be objective."

"Well then _objectively_ you're an arse," Sera returned with a wicked grin, smiling even wider as his face fell into a pout. "C'mon, you big baby. It's why we get along!"

Dellis smiled as she snickered into the bottle as she drank. "You're not so bad, Buttercup."

"I _hate_ that name," she growled, only making Dellis laugh. "You just wait, Trev."

"No pranks until we're all settled, alright?" Dellis returned, suddenly very serious.

"Fine," Sera grumbled, returning her attention to the bottle. "But once this place is up and running all bets are off."

* * *

Leliana sat at a desk in the top level of one of the keep's towers, leaning forward on her elbows and deep in thought. The tower itself would make a wonderful rookery, something she had lacked in Haven, but the reconstruction of Skyhold was the farthest thing from her mind.

Cullen had just left after delivering a list of casualties from Haven. Many of her agents had been lost in addition to far too many civilians. It would fall to her to notify the families. Appropriate, she thought, since their deaths were on her hands.

"There you are," a voice called from behind her. Leliana turned her head to see Cassandra cresting the top of the stairs. "I have been looking for you."

"What do you need?" Leliana asked coldly.

Cassandra was silent as she approached, taking a seat on the opposite side of the table. Though their voices echoed throughout the tower there was no one else there to hear them. "It has been hours," Cassandra explained. "You have not eaten and no one has seen you since shortly after we arrived."

Leliana sighed, pushing the list toward the Seeker. Cassandra gave it a brief glance before looking back up at her friend.

"The blame is mine," Leliana said in a soft voice.

"Do not be ridiculous," Cassandra replied. "The Elder One is the only one to blame for the loss of Haven."

"When the first of my lookouts went missing, I pulled the rest back," Leliana continued, her head bowed. "I waited for more information, confirmation of the threat. I was afraid to lose them, but instead we lost Haven and most of them died anyway."

"Leliana," Cassandra said sternly, waiting for the spymaster to look up. "Were I in your position I would have done the same."

"My people know their duty," Leliana insisted. "They know the risks."

"Risk _is_ their duty," Cassandra agreed, "however it does not mean we should throw their lives away recklessly. Our forces are not tools to be used and discarded. They are not expendable."

"I'm surprised to hear you say that, Cassandra," Leliana replied with a scornful laugh. "You seemed perfectly willing to let Dellis sacrifice himself."

Leliana immediately regretted the words as she saw a small blush of embarrassment in Cassandra's cheeks.

"I'm sorry," Leliana apologized. "That was beneath me."

"No, you are right," Cassandra agreed with a sigh. "I should have done more to stop him."

"If you had stopped him we'd all be dead," Leliana reminded her, her gloved hand tracing the list of names. "It's hard to balance the needs of the Inquisition with the needs of my heart. Can we afford sentimentality when the world burns around us?"

"You balance my lack of sentimentality," Cassandra said with a small smile. "Do not blame yourself, Leliana. We need you as you are."

"You still surprise me sometimes, Cassandra," the spymaster said with the smile. "You should let the world see your softer side more often."

Cassandra snorted at the idea. "I must maintain appearances," she explained, now fully smiling. "What ever would I do if the Inquisition did not fear my righteous vengeance?"

"You might have more than one friend," Leliana laughed.

"I have need of only you," Cassandra smiled, taking Leliana's hand. "Do not let the Elder One break your resolve."

"I won't," Leliana promised, smiling in return.

* * *

It had been several days since their arrival at Skyhold, and the day to day operations were in place well enough that Dellis no longer had to offer his hunting services to ensure the Inquisition could eat. Josephine had worked tirelessly nearly night and day to establish trade routes for much needed supplies, and the war council was now assured that supplies would arrive regularly very soon.

With the responsibility of hunting now removed, Dellis had turned his attention to helping with the rebuilding process. The grounds were overgrown, but the keep itself was in shambles. While furniture in many of the outlying buildings was intact, the majority of that in the keep seemed utterly destroyed, especially in the throne room. Tattered and moldy curtains had hung from the ceiling until they had been torn down and burned outside the keep walls.

Dellis balanced precariously atop a rafter in the forge, a stack of planks laid carefully beside him. Cullen had been overly excited to find that among the things left in the keep were tools. They had found a cache of supplies within the forge, including hammers, nails, and other basics with which to rebuild. It had taken several days for some of the craftier of Leliana's agents to find and cut enough lumber to begin repairs.

Dellis tried vainly to balance both himself and a board against the broken roof of the forge. Nearly losing his footing, Dellis growled as he heard the hammer clatter to the floor while he repositioned himself on the rafter. A surprised cry from below prompted him to look down.

"Sorry about that," he called, seeing Cassandra picking up the hammer.

"Please do not kill yourself up there," she ordered flatly. "I do not know if Solas can heal a broken neck."

"I promise I won't fall," Dellis assured her with a laugh, carefully placing the plank back down on the stack. "Mind bringing that up here?"

Cassandra sighed loudly, as if to ensure he heard her, before picking up the hammer and climbing the two sets of stairs to the top level of the forge. Dellis carefully walked along the center beam, sitting down as he reached the crossbeam closest to the railing and letting his legs dangle on either side of the main rafter.

"You know, I don't think we've had a proper chance to talk since we got here," Dellis said as she handed him the hammer. "I haven't been able to thank you."

"For what?" Cassandra asked, her arms crossed over the arming doublet she wore under her breastplate.

"For saving my life," he told her with a smile, leaning forward and propping both hands on the rafter.

"I did no such thing," she returned with a shake of her head. "Cullen was the one that found you in the mountains and it was Solas who healed you."

"And you gave me your knife, which is the only reason you found me alive," he reminded her. "And I know you know it because you took the knife back."

She made a disgusted noise and turned away from him to leave.

"Hey, can't you take a compliment?" Dellis asked with a frown. The Seeker stopped, placing her hands on her hips, and sighed without turning around.

"It was luck," she told him, turning to glance over her shoulder.

"Or the Maker's will," Dellis suggested with a grin, prompting an annoyed snort from the woman below him.

"Do not joke at the Maker's expense," she warned grumpily, turning back to face him

"Who says I'm joking?" he asked, swinging his legs over the rafter and hopping down with a loud thud. "Perhaps it was divine intervention that made you give me your dagger."

"Do you really believe that?" Cassandra asked, a hint of sarcasm in her voice as he stepped toward her.

"It's no stranger than me being sent by Andraste," he replied with a shrug, reaching a hand up toward her hair. She swatted at him instinctively, causing him to pull back with a wry grin. He showed her the leaf he had plucked from her hair, eliciting a blush. "Hope that hasn't been there too long."

Cassandra growled at him, snatching the leaf from his hand and crushing it in her palm. "Why must you be so difficult?"

"It's my job," Dellis told her with a straight face. She stared at him for a moment before he burst out in laughter. "I'm sorry, I can't help it. The look on your face right now is so priceless."

"I hate you, Trevelyan."

"You do not," he insisted with a smile. "Deep down I make you laugh."

"Yes, because I enjoy laughing at myself," she scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"I laugh at myself all the time," Dellis said with a shrug. "If you can't laugh at yourself how can you _be_ laughed at?" He paused for a moment as she glared at him. "I suppose most people aren't brave enough to laugh at you."

"I constantly question why _you_ are," she replied with a huff.

"I probably should know better, huh?" Dellis paused, considering whether or not to proceed. The fact that she hadn't walked away after being teased was encouraging, but he knew pushing things could end in disaster. "Really, though, how are you doing?"

"How am I doing?" she repeated, almost as if confused.

"Losing Haven had to be hard," Dellis explained, shifting his weight as she stared at him. "No matter how much you try to convince us you're an emotionless super warrior, we know you're not."

"What do you propose I do, Trevelyan?" Cassandra asked, her tone a mixture of sarcasm and annoyance. "Should I sit and pout? Or cry about it? These things serve no purpose."

"If you hold it inside it will get worse," Dellis warned. "Talk to someone."

Cassandra stared at him for a moment before narrowing her eyes into a piercing glare. With a huff she turned and stalked away without another word. Dellis shook his head before turning his attention back to the rafters. The repairs needed to be done, but they could wait.

* * *

Dellis stood impatiently in Cullen's office as he waited for the Commander to arrive. It had been three weeks since arriving at Skyhold and the keep was now beginning to look livable. Having received several shipments of goods and materials since Josephine was able to set up the trade routes, the Inquisition's forces had been able to repair most of the glaring structural flaws as well as do something to furnish most of the buildings.

As he leaned against the Commander's desk the door opened, revealing Cullen and Leliana. Dellis frowned, wondering why both had come.

"About time," Dellis complained. "I thought you might leave me waiting here forever."

"My apologies," Cullen said with a slight blush. "Leliana was difficult to find."

"I wasn't hiding from you, Commander," Leliana claimed in her defense.

"Why are you _both_ here?" Dellis asked, waving to remind them he was still present. "You're not kicking me out of the Inquisition, are you?"

Cullen laughed deeply at the comment. "No, hardly."

"Good," Dellis returned with a smile. "That would be incredibly awkward."

"It's much the opposite, in fact," Leliana explained, smiling slightly. "We have known for some time that the Inquisition is only as strong as its leader and yet we have had no one to take up that role."

"What, so you want me to help you pick someone?" Dellis asked with a shrug.

Cullen laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "Actually, Trevelyan, we hoped _you_ would accept the role of Inquisitor."

Dellis stared at them both for a moment. "I must have misheard you, because I thought you just said you wanted _me_ to lead the Inquisition."

"We do," Leliana confirmed. "The people know and respect you as the Herald of Andraste."

"I'm a criminal," Dellis reminded her. "There is no way I can lead the Inquisition."

"We did consider that," Cullen admitted, "but Josephine seems confident that she can smooth it over with the nobility."

"Wait, how long have you been planning this?" Dellis asked, a horrified look on his face.

"Since before Haven was attacked," Cullen answered, eliciting a panicked sigh from Dellis. "I know it seems like a lot, but you have been the binding chain that has kept everything together these past few months, whether you realize it or not."

"Dellis, you are more than your past," Leliana reminded him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You have the strength and the will to lead where no one else can. The Inquisition needs you, and you need it."

Dellis took a moment to simply breathe as he considered what they had said. He knew why they wanted him to lead. The rumors implying him to have been sent by Andraste herself to save the people were powerful. His background as a commoner attracted the people while his deeds appeased the nobility. He was the perfect candidate, beyond the fact that he simply felt himself incapable.

"What about Cassandra?" Dellis finally asked.

"What about her?" Cullen returned, a look of confusion on his face.

"Has she agreed to this?" Dellis clarified. "She declared the Inquisition. I will not accept the role of Inquisitor unless she supports it and believes me competent."

"You care that deeply of her opinion?" Leliana asked with a smile. "It was her idea."

" _She's_ the one that thinks I should be Inquisitor?" Dellis sputtered, staring at Leliana in disbelief. She gave him an encouraging nod, prompting him to sigh deeply. "Fine, I suppose. If you all think I'm the man for the job then I'll do it, but I can't guarantee my peasant-like ways won't embarrass us all eventually."

"Oh, don't worry," Leliana assured him with a grin. "Josie is fully committed to tutoring you in the ways of the nobility and the Grand Game."

Dellis sighed loudly as his companions looked upon him happily. "Maker preserve me..."

 


	11. Hello, Old Friend

"Stand up straight," Josephine ordered as Dellis stood before her, dressed awkwardly in a formal doublet that made it hard for him to breathe. He'd been in Josephine's office for hours, first to be properly dressed in what he was assured to be the finest fashions from Val Royeaux, and then to be properly groomed. Before he could protest, she'd had a barber take a good three inches off his admittedly lengthy hair and he had barely been able to slap the man's hands away from shaving off the remains of his beard.

"Josie, this is ridiculous," he complained as she examined him from head to toe. "Dressing me up like some Antivan prince isn't going to be make me a noble."

"I am aware of that, Inquisitor," the ambassador purred, brushing a stray hair off his shoulder. He rolled his eyes, eliciting a satisfied smile from the Antivan diplomat. "Now, bow again."

The Inquisitor sighed again and bowed at the waist. Dellis flinched as he felt one of Josephine's hands on the middle of his back and again as her other hand found his chest, working together to straighten his posture.

"Really, Dellis," she complained as he stood, "are you evening trying?"

"Gosh, I didn't realize bowing was so complicated," he groaned with an exaggerated roll of his eyes.

"The slightest imperfection could cause grand insult," Josephine warned, her expression far more serious than Dellis thought it ought to have been over a simple bow. Josephine, however, seemed all too eager to continue her lecture. "We cannot afford a diplomatic incident because the Inquisitor cannot bow!"

"I'm sure I'll pick it up," he assured her with a nervous laugh. Dellis briefly looked over his shoulder as Josephine seemed to be ready to begin again. Cassandra walked quietly past from the war room, seemingly trying to avoid disrupting their lessons. Dellis had never been so happy to see her in all his life. "Cassandra!" he shouted loudly enough to startle her.

"Inqui...sitor?" she asked, stuttering halfway through the word as she saw him.

"He does clean up nicely, doesn't he?" Josephine asked, smiling at her handiwork.

"He almost looks presentable," the Seeker agreed with an amused smirk. "Of course, as soon as he speaks..."

"I resent that," Dellis complained, crossing his arms over his chest. The gesture was difficult in the overly tight doublet. "Cassandra, I was hoping we could speak."

"We haven't finished here yet, Inquisitor," Josephine reminded him.

"Sorry, Josie," Dellis apologized, grabbing a confused Cassandra by the arm and pushing her toward the exit to the ambassador's office. "We'll rain check."

"What is so urgent?" Cassandra asked as they moved out of earshot.

"I'm sorry, I used you to escape," Dellis confessed with a smile. "If she had made me bow one more time I may have lost my mind."

Cassandra stirred to respond however her words were interrupted by laughter behind them. "Is that you, Inquisitor?" Dorian asked, his mustache twitching as he continued to laugh. "That's certainly a new look for you."

"Josie assures me it's the latest fashion," Dellis shrugged.

"Perhaps the latest fashion in Antivan pyjamas," the mage quipped, his smile growing wider. "You fill them out quite well, however."

Dellis turned his head as he heard Cassandra make a disgusted noise before walking off with a dismissive wave of her hand. He turned back to Dorian and shrugged, only making the mage laugh harder. "What's so funny?'

"I'm fairly certain she validated my claims, if you take my meaning," he snickered.

"What, you mean...?" Dellis asked, looking down at himself.

"Yes, she gave you a once over," Dorian confirmed, trying to suppress another laugh.

"That's ridiculous," Dellis snorted. "Cassandra can barely stand to be in the same room with me for more than five minutes."

"Don't read too much into it, Dell," Dorian chuckled. "You are rather pretty, and she's only human."

"Right," he replied, feeling his face flush slightly. "Did you need something, or...?"

"Don't worry, Inquisitor, you're safe," Dorian assured him with an alluring smile that made Dellis ever so slightly uncomfortable. "In fact, I was only here to tell you that Varric is looking for you."

"Where is he?" Dellis asked, noticing that Varric was not at his usual table in the main hall.

"He said something about meeting you on the battlements," Dorian explained. "I believe he said the northwest tower."

"Thanks, Dorian," the Inquisitor said with a nod, happily fleeing from the mage's watchful eyes. Always a bit too watchful when he was around Dellis.

Despite the stiffness of his new outfit Dellis was able to fairly easily traverse the Skyhold courtyard. Almost no one paid him any mind, likely because they were used to seeing him in breeches and a tunic rather than formal attire and probably didn't recognize him. Dellis made a mental note to refuse to ever wear the ridiculous getup outside of diplomatic events again.

As he climbed the steps toward the battlements, Dellis could begin to hear what he recognized as Varric's voice and the voice of another woman he couldn't place. She sounded familiar, but he could not put his finger on exactly where he knew the voice from. As he reached the top of stairs he could see Varric talking to a dark-haired woman whose back was turned toward him.

"Are you going to introduce us?" Dellis asked as he approached. He stopped abruptly as the woman turned around. She seemed equally horrified to see him as he was to see her.

" _He_ is the Inquisitor?" Marian Hawke growled without turning toward her friend. Varric's cheerful face quickly twisted with confusion.

"You said you barely knew her," Varric accused.

"I wasn't _exactly_ lying," Dellis said in his own defense.

"He never referred to you by name in his letters," Hawke continued, her eyes narrowed into slits and her arms crossed. "If I'd known it was you I might not have come."

"Come on," Dellis urged. "You can't still be mad about that."

"What did you _do_ , Squiggles?" Varric asked, his face moving back and forth between the two. Suddenly his eyebrows rose in surprise. "Wait, it was _you_?" Varric asked, laughing in amazement. "You're the one that deflowered Sunshine?"

"Maker, Hawke, did you tell everyone?" Dellis groaned. "It was a _very_ long time ago."

"Oh, this is too good," Varric laughed.

"And they made you Inquisitor," Hawke sighed. "I suppose that figures."

"Says the Champion of Kirkwall," Dellis returned with a grin. "I suppose we've both exceeded our grasp, eh?"

"You look ridiculous, by the way," Hawke smirked.

"I _feel_ ridiculous," Delis agreed with a sad sigh.

Varric cleared his throat, prompting the two to turn their attention toward him. "I didn't bring Hawke here to get your autograph, Squiggles."

"Right," Dellis chuckled.

"I know I didn't say anything when you mentioned Corypheus but..." The dwarf trailed off, his head hanging slightly as if he was ashamed. Naturally once things had calmed down in the keep Dellis had fully disclosed the events at Haven to the war council, including the inner circle. Varric had been unusually silent during the explanation, a fact that Dellis hadn't given much thought until now.

"We slew Corypheus," Hawke explained for him.

"Apparently not," Dellis returned with a shrug.

"You don't understand, Trevelyan," Varric frowned. "We didn't _think_ we killed him. He was dead. Not breathing. Full of stab wounds. That kind of dead." He sighed loudly before shrugging his shoulders. "Anyway, I'll leave you two to talk."

"He's taking it hard," Hawke explained as Varric disappeared down the stairs. "He feels more responsible for Corypheus than I do."

"What exactly happened?" Dellis asked, leaning against the parapet near her.

"Bethany and I were being hunted by the Carta," Hawke explained. "Varric tracked them down to an old ruin, which was where we found Corypheus. We... released him."

"You released him?" Dellis repeated.

"He had been imprisoned there by the Grey Wardens," Hawke continued. "We released him in order to destroy him. We thought he was dead. I _saw_ him. He _was_ dead." She shook her head. "It doesn't make any sense."

"Well he's not dead now," Dellis replied with a frown. "Is there anything else you can tell me?"

"You've already dropped half a mountain on the bastard," Hawke said, her grin returning. "I'm sure anything I can tell you pales in comparison."

"Oh, I don't know," Dellis returned, a cockeyed smile spreading across his face as he leaned toward her slightly. "You _did_ save a city from a horde of rampaging Qunari."

"I don't see how that really applies here," Hawke laughed, a mockingly serious look on her face, "unless there's a horde of rampaging Qunari I don't know about."

"We've only got the one," the Inquisitor smiled, "though sometimes I think he qualifies as a horde all on his own."

Hawke leaned forward over the parapet, sighing heavily. "This is my fault."

"Don't think that," Dellis told her, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"No," she replied with a shake of her head. "I should have known better when the Grey Wardens suggested releasing an ancient darkspawn seemed like a good idea."

"Why _did_ they want to you to release him?" Dellis asked after a moment.

"He influenced them somehow," she explained. "Maybe through the taint."

"Do you think he's controlling them now?" he asked, thinking for a moment. "That might explain why they seem to have gone missing." He frowned, sighing deeply. "If Corypheus has the Venatori, the red templars, _and_ the Wardens, then we've got our work cut out for us."

Hawke smiled slightly. "I didn't come all this way just to give you bad news."

"That's a relief."

"I've got a friend in the Wardens," she told him. "He was investigating something unrelated for me. His name is Stroud."

"You've got friends in the Wardens?" Dellis asked with a grin. "You've sure climbed a tall ladder, Hawke."

"You're one to talk," she shot back. "The last time Stroud and I spoke he was worried about corruption in the Warden ranks."

"Is Stroud missing with the rest of the Wardens?" Dellis asked.

"I don't think so,” Hawke returned, "although I don't know exactly where he is."

"Can you help find him?"

Hawke nodded. "If you don't mind my staying in Skyhold for a bit, I think I can help your people track him down."

"Stay as long as you want, as far as I'm concerned," Dellis offered. He paused for a moment before deciding to speak. "So, how _is_ Bethany?"

Hawke rolled her eyes. "I can't believe you even have the balls to ask."

"Hey, I liked your sister," he insisted. "We heard about what happened in Kirkwall, even out on the streets."

"She's fine," Hawke assured him. "I had my friend Aveline take her somewhere safe after the Circles dissolved."

"Ah yes, I've heard of Aveline," Dellis chuckled. "Varric told a story about her on the way to Skyhold and I'm afraid one my companion reappropriated her nickname for Cassandra."

"Dear Maker, not Lady Battering Ram?" Hawke laughed. "Oh Isabela..."

"Talk to Commander Cullen," Dellis suggested after a moment of awkward silence. "He can find you a bunk to sleep on while you're here."

"Thanks, Dellis," she said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Perhaps I won't have to kill you in your sleep after all."

"Comforting, Marian," her told her flatly, eliciting an amused smile.

They parted company, Hawke heading toward Cullen's office and Dellis heading back toward the main keep. As he reached the bottom of the stairs leading away from the battlements, he was approached by a rather agitated-looking dwarf. He recognized her as Harding, the Inquisition's head scout.

"Is something wrong, Harding?" he asked, frowning at the exasperated look on her face.

"You might want to get to the forge, Your Worship," she suggested. "Varric just walked by and when Lady Cassandra saw him she grabbed him by the collar and dragged him inside. She looked mighty angry."

"Maker's balls," Dellis whispered, suddenly remembering what Varric had told him about his time with Cassandra in Kirkwall. She must have found out Hawke was here and he knew she couldn't possibly be happy about it.

Dellis ran toward the forge as fast as he could, noticing the door had been left wide open. Several of the forge workers waited outside. A few looked downright terrified. Having witnessed Cassandra's rage firsthand, he could understand why.

As he entered, Dellis could hear the sounds of shouting from upstairs. _Figures she'd drag him up there so he couldn't escape out the far door._ As he got to the top of the stairs, Dellis could see Cassandra and Varric on the far side, her hands gripping the leather of his jacket tightly as she pinned him against the railing.

"You knew where Hawke was all along!" she shouted as Varric pushed her away.

"You're damn right I did!" he shouted back.

"You conniving little shit," Cassandra snarled, taking a swing at him. The dwarf deftly ducked away as Dellis rushed forward to break up the fight.

"Hey, enough!" he shouted, moving between them, much to Cassandra's dismay.

"You're taking _his_ side?" she accused angrily.

"I said _enough_ ," he barked, this time more forcefully. The two fell silent.

"We needed someone to lead this Inquisition," Cassandra finally spoke, still glaring at Varric. "First, Leliana and I searched for the Hero of Ferelden, but he had vanished. Then we looked for Hawke, but _she_ was gone, too. We thought it all connected, but no. It was just _you_. You kept her from us!"

"The Inquisition _has_ a leader," Varric reminded her, motioning toward Dellis.

"Hawke would have been at the Conclave!" Cassandra growled. "If _anyone_ could have saved Most Holy-"

"You can't change the past, Cassandra," Dellis told her as tactfully as he could. "What's done is done."

"So, I must accept... what?" she asked, her cheeks flushed red in anger. "That the Maker _wanted_ all of this to happen? That he... that he..."

There was a brief moment, when her voice seemed to crack, that Dellis thought she might actually break down and cry. She seemed on the verge of tears until she looked at Varric, her anger sudden renewed. Her face hardened and she glared at the dwarf anew.

"Varric is a liar, Inquisitor," she spat viciously. "A _snake_. Even after the Conclave, when we needed Hawke most, Varric kept her secret."

"She's with us now," Varric replied with a huff, now losing his own patience. "We're on the same side, Seeker!"

"We all know whose side you're on, Varric," she growled back at him. "It will never be the Inquisition's."

"That's _enough_ ," Dellis repeated, moving toward her. "Attacking Varric now won't help us, Cassandra. We have to work together to defeat Corypheus. _All_ of us."

"Exactly!" Varric said with a victorious laugh.

"You're not helping," Dellis scolded. "You had better not be keeping anything _else_ from us."

Varric paused as Dellis's disapproving gaze fell on him. Finally, he sighed in defeat. "Yeah, yeah, I understand."

Cassandra's features softened slightly as the two men stood in silence. She turned away from them and leaned on her elbows against an empty table. "He did bring Hawke," she admitted softly after a moment. "Late, perhaps, but Hawke is with us."

Dellis turned toward Varric, giving him that _you should go_ look. The dwarf nodded and headed for the stairs, allowing Dellis to let out a relieved sigh that he'd gotten them through the argument without any bloodshed. His brief moment of victory was shattered the instant Varric opened his mouth.

"You know what I think?" Varric asked from the stairs, a hint of disdain in his voice. "If Hawke had been at the temple, she'd be dead too. You people have done _enough_ to her."

Dellis groaned softly as he heard Varric's steps echo down the stairs. He always had to get the last word in. Cassandra's shoulders had slumped even further toward the table.

"I believed him," she said after a moment. "He spun his story and I swallowed it." She sighed and shook her head. "If I'd just explained what was at stake... If I'd just made him understand..."

"Don't do this to yourself," Dellis pleaded as she pushed away from the table and turned toward him.

"But I didn't, did I?" she asked, ignoring him. "I didn't explain why we needed Hawke."

"Cassandra," he chided softly.

"I'm such a fool," she breathed, putting a hand over her eyes.

"What do you think would have happened if you _hadn't_ believed him?" Dellis asked, moving closer. "What if you _had_ tracked Hawke down?"

"Honestly?" she asked with a halfhearted laugh. "Hawke might not even have agreed to become Inquisitor." Cassandra bowed her head again. "She wouldn't have trusted me for a second."

"So, this isn't about Varric," Dellis suggested.

"No, it's not," Cassandra agreed, taking a deep breath. "I should have been more careful. I should have been smarter." She closed her eyes and shook her head. "I don't deserve to be here."

Dellis suddenly found his mind wandering back to Redcliffe Castle, in the dungeons when he had found Cassandra. He remembered her haggard face and broken spirit and how the mere thought of him being there to help them had sent her leaping into his arms. She had had the same vulnerability then that she did now. He could almost feel the warmth of her body next to his.

He _could_ feel warmth. Dellis tensed nearly as much as Cassandra did when he realized he was actually hugging her. In his momentary retreat into the past he must have moved forward to embrace her. As they stood awkwardly next to the window he could feel her tension ease ever so slightly as she relaxed, her chin on his shoulder. Dellis could feel her uneven breaths and quickened heartbeat through the fabric of their doublets.

"You're too hard on yourself," he whispered into her ear after a moment. As if this was her cue, she pushed herself away from him. Not aggressively, but certainly dismissively. She avoided eye contact for several moments until the silence became too awkward to bear.

"Thank you, Inquisitor." Cassandra still refused to look him in the eye, as if embarrassed.

"I'll have to add this to my list of new duties as Inquisitor," Dellis offered, happy to see a small smile tug at the corner of her mouth.

She was silent again. "Please don't tell anyone that..." She coughed lightly, clearly still unsettled.

"I won't tell a soul," he promised, mustering up the sincerest smile he could manage.

Cassandra thanked him before retreating down the stairs as fast as was reasonably appropriate. Dellis could feel a smile on his face and the lingering scent of her hair hung in the air around him. He stood there, dumbstruck and confused, for twenty minutes before returning to the keep.


	12. The Long Walk

It had been several hours since Dellis had sat down at the bar in the Herald's Rest. He hadn't had quite enough ale to stop being horrified that they’d named the tavern after him, but he was sure that would change soon. He took a long slow quaff from his mug and leaned forward on the bar with long sigh.

"If I had to take a guess I'd say you've had about six of those," a voice said from behind him. Dellis turned his head, gripping the stool so as not to lose his balance. Behind him stood Maryden, smiling with her arms crossed.

"I might have," Dellis admitted, taking a look at the empty mugs as she sat next to him.

"What seems to be on your mind, Inquisitor?"

Dellis looked around the Herald's Rest. It was an off hour so the building was mostly empty save for the regulars. Cabot, the bartender, paid him no mind unless he needed a refill.

"No more for the Inquisitor, I think," Maryden told the dwarf as he came to do just that. Dellis pouted, leaning forward on the tables that served as the bar.

"I'm thirsty," he whined as Maryden pulled his half empty mug away from him.

"You've been sitting there drinking for hours," she reminded him. "What's got you bothered, sweetness?"

"I just needed a break," Dellis assured her, looking longingly at the mug.

"Mm-hm," the bard returned with a wry smile, taking a sip from the stolen mug. "I don't suppose you're hiding from someone, are you?"

"Of course not," the Inquisitor replied just a bit too quickly.

The bard leaned toward him slightly with a smile. "Let me think," Maryden purred. "Who hardly ever comes into the tavern...?"

"I'm not avoiding Cassandra!" he insisted, quickly cursing under his breath.

"Did you anger the Seeker _again_ , Dellis?" she clucked at him.

"Probably," Dellis sighed, his cheeks flushing slightly.

"Touching, face warm, can't move, don't want to move."

Dellis nearly fell off the stool again as he whirled around to see Cole standing behind them. Cole looked at him quizzically as the Inquisitor began to glare.

"You enjoyed it," Cole told him, more a statement of fact than an accusation.

"Quiet, Cole," Dellis begged.

"What is he talking about?" Maryden asked, looking between the two of them.

"He touched Cassandra," Cole explained, straight faced. "She did not enjoy it."

"I _hugged_ her," Dellis clarified as Maryden raised an eyebrow. He paused for a moment before turning back to Cole. "She didn't enjoy it?"

"It confused her," Cole replied. "She does not like to be confused."

"You hugged the Seeker?" Maryden asked with an amused smile. "You're braver than I thought."

"It was an accident," Dellis told her with a sigh.

"She hurts, deep where no one can see. She failed the Maker, the world, him. He's dead, but there he is. Her heart hurts. She holds him. If she lets go he'll be gone again."

His chest suddenly tightened as Dellis heard the recounting of his meeting with Cassandra in the Redcliffe dungeons. "Cole, stop."

"Maybe I should leave you two," Maryden suggested, standing up and taking a step back. Dellis thought about stopping her, but decided to hold his tongue as she quietly slipped away from the bar.

"How do you know about that?" Dellis asked quietly. Cole stood before him, unmoving. In their time together, the group had come to learn of Cole's unique ability to read a person's thoughts and feelings, but the things he had said sounded like they were _Cassandra's_ feelings, not his.

"You were thinking of it," Cole explained.

"How do you know how _she_ felt?" he clarified. "The _she_ that was in Redcliffe no longer exists."

Cole looked at him, his face emotionless. "She echoes inside you."

Dellis was quiet for several moments. "Please don't say anything to her about this."

"You're ashamed," Cole told him. "I don't understand."

"I have feelings I shouldn't have," Dellis tried with a shake of his head. "It's difficult to explain. Just promise you won't say anything."

"I won't, but I don't understand." Dellis sighed as he thought he saw a small frown on Cole's face.

Dellis stood up from the stool to leave, but drunk as he was he stumbled and nearly fell. Cole swiftly moved forward, catching him and allowing the Inquisitor to lean against his significantly smaller frame.

"You did not fail them," Cole told him, his eyes watching the Inquisitor's face from beneath the brim of his hat. "Ragged breath, pain burns like fire. As she dies she sees him and knows she'll live again."

Dellis watched him, his breath catching in his throat. "Cole, I... thank you."

What seemed like minutes later Dellis was laying in his bed in the keep, watching the ceiling swim before him as his head throbbed. He didn't remember how he got there, likely Cole's doing, but he was grateful nonetheless. Dellis closed his eyes, hoping the spinning would stop. He had a lot to think about, but perhaps he would save the thoughts until he was sober.

* * *

It hadn't taken long for Hawke to hear whispers of the confrontation between Cassandra and Varric. She wasn't worried. She knew the dwarf could take care of himself, but she also knew that despite his sarcastic exterior he may have seriously taken some of the altercation to heart.

The dwarf, as it turned out, was not as easy to find as she had hoped. Hawke had thought perhaps he was drowning his sorrows in the tavern but upon entering had seen Dellis in what looked to be a drunken argument with a young man in a very peculiar hat. Varric was nowhere to be found.

Having very little idea where to look next, Hawke decided to do the obvious thing: ask the spymaster. She had only met Leliana once, but was not the least bit surprised to find that the Left Hand remembered their meeting well, if not fondly. Leliana suggested checking the battlements.

She finally found him leaning on one of the parapets in the southern tower, looking out into the mountains. From behind he looked as though he might just be enjoying the crisp mountain air, but knowing him as she did, Hawke could see the slight slouch in his shoulders.

"You're a hard man to find, Varric," she announced from behind him. The dwarf turned to look over his shoulder, grunting softly in acknowledgement as he saw her. "I admit I'm a bit miffed about your letters."

"How was I supposed to know Squiggles was _the_ guy?" Varric asked, a smile trying to leap to his face. "Besides, maybe it's a good thing I didn't tell you his name otherwise you might not have come."

"Dellis is lucky I didn't set his unmentionables on fire after I caught them," Hawke snickered. "But seriously, Varric, you know I would have come even if I had known it was that trollop in charge."

Varric laughed in spite of himself. "I'll have to save that one for my next serial."

Hawke leaned against the stone of the tower beside him, looking at her friend. "What happened between you and the Seeker?" she asked, her tone suddenly serious. "I'm getting the feeling now that you left details out of your letters."

A deep sigh rumbled from the dwarf's chest. "I told you she came looking for you in Kirkwall," Varric began, looking back out at the snowy peaks beyond Skyhold. "She wasn't happy when she found out I knew where you were and lied to her."

"You never told me she was _looking_ for me, Varric," Hawke returned with a frown. "I thought she just interrogated you to find out what happened."

"I didn't want you to worry," Varric shrugged. "If I'd told her where you were..."

Hawke put a hand on Varric's shoulder as he sighed again. "You're a better friend than I deserve," she told him with a smile. "Don't punish yourself for doing what you thought was right."

"I wanted to protect you but now... I put you, Squiggles, the Seeker, _everyone_ in Thedas in danger."

"Hey, Varric, it's not your fault," Hawke told him. "You didn't know Corypheus was in those ruins and it was _my_ choice to release him."

"This isn't your fault either, Hawke," Varric insisted, his heavy brow furrowing.

"I set him loose," she returned with a shake of her head. "I'll see things through until he's banished back to whatever hell he came from."

Varric grinned. "You'll have to fight Squiggles for all the glory."

"I think I can manage," Hawke replied, smiling as the breeze blew through her hair.

Varric sighed heavily again. "You think I should apologize?"

"Do you think she'd try to throw a table at you if you did?" Hawke countered. Varric couldn't help but smile slightly.

"I wouldn't put it past her," he chuckled. "Maybe I'll let her cool down a bit then."

"Probably a safe bet."

"Hey, Hawke?"

"Yeah?" the Champion asked, turning to her friend.

"Thanks for coming," Varric said to her with a smile. "You're the last really good friend I've got."

"Nothing could keep me away," Hawke assured him with a smile, leaning against him playfully. "Not even a home-wrecking Inquisitor."

Varric chuckled. "I think you secretly like Squiggles."

"I suppose he's not so bad," Hawke agreed with a wink.

"Don't tell _him_ that," Varric grinned. "His head'll get even bigger."

"Our secret, then."

* * *

It had taken several days, but with the help of both Leliana's and Josephine's agents the Inquisition had managed to track down Hawke's contact, an Orlesian Warden by the name of Jean-Marc Stroud. He had been located in Crestwood, a small village on the north side of Lake Calenhad. As they arrived, the group was assaulted with the most torrential downpour Dellis had experienced in years.

"It had to be raining," Dellis mumbled as they trudged along the muddy paths through Crestwood. The Inquisition's scouts had managed to track Stroud to a cave outside the village. Not wanting to waste the opportunity, the group had set out immediately to find him so as not to risk his departure.

The party had stopped for a few moments to consult the map Leliana had provided under the relative safety of a tree stand. The rain had caused some of the ink on the map to run, leaving Cassandra to argue with Blackwall about the proper direction in which to travel. While they debated, the rest of the group waited patiently, trying in vain to avoid as much of the rain falling through the canopy as possible.

"Couldn't we have just sent some scouts to do this?” Dellis asked. As he turned toward Hawke, he bumped into Cole, causing water to drip from the brim of his hat onto Varric's head much to the dwarf’s dismay.

"He won't trust you if I'm not there," Hawke explained.

"We need to head south," Blackwall finally announced. Cassandra seemed annoyed, but had apparently given up the argument.

It became clear as they trekked through the waterlogged hills of Crestwood that something was very wrong. The first thing they had seen as they arrived was a large rift across – and under – the lake, seemingly with no access. It had been suggested that later, when they could afford the time, they seal the rift. As they walked along the paths toward the location on Leliana's map, Dellis could feel his palm begin to itch.

"There's a rift nearby," he announced, unslinging his bow. He could just barely see the green glow cresting over a hilltop as he felt a hand on his leg. He gasped lightly as he looked down.

"Undead!" Hawke shouted as she readied her staff, a globe of fire appearing at her palm. Dellis quickly kicked away the grasping limb, taking several steps backward and pulling an arrow out of his quiver. Cassandra and Blackwall had pulled out their weapons, standing shoulder to shoulder in a shield wall to protect the mages.

With lightning fast efficiency, Cole appeared before him, quickly cutting down the shambling corpse that had now fully emerged from the ground. Dellis loosed arrow after arrow at the now sizable crowd of undead. Several shots which would have put a man on his back seemed to do little to phase the walking corpses.

Hawke and Solas stood together, unleashing combinations of ice and fire magic with deadly effects. The corpses frozen by Solas shattered as Hawke burst them from the inside out. No matter how many they felled, however, the undead seemed endless in number and the rift pulsed with life as more and more corpses poured out from the muddy grounds.

"We must get him closer," Solas shouted over the din of battle.

"Andraste's ass, they're popping out of the ground with _weapons_ ," Varric shouted as he reloaded Bianca.

After cleaving a corpse nearly in half Cassandra broke away from Blackwall, sheathing her weapon and heading straight for Dellis. "Come, you must seal the rift if we are to stand any chance against this horde."

Before he could object, Cassandra grabbed the collar of his jacket and pulled him after her, her shield still held in front of her to ward off attack. "There are dozens of undead out there," Dellis reminded her. "Do you really think it's a good idea to-"

"We _must_ seal it now or we will be overrun," she interrupted, pulling her sword back out to cut down another ambling corpse.

The two pushed forward toward the rift with the help of the mages, who desperately attempted to cut a path through the horde for the two. Dellis was concerned he might actually run out of arrows. The rain made aiming difficult as he tried to squint through the water streaming down his face.

Dellis was pulling back his bowstring when he felt the muddy ground beneath him give way. His boots slid forward, causing him to tumble into the mud beneath with a loud grunt. There was just enough slope to send him sliding into Cassandra, causing them both the tumble down the hill in a heap.

For the first time since meeting her, Dellis heard Cassandra growl something particularly un-Andrastian as she untangled herself from him. She had just enough time to look behind her before throwing herself over Dellis and putting up her shield to cover them.

There was a loud crash as the corpse's maul connected with Cassandra's shield with enough force to crush their bodies together beneath it. Dellis could hear her groan in pain as the walking corpse pulled back the hammer, the shield falling from her grip. The strength of the blow and the angle of her defense had most certainly injured her. If she could no longer hold the shield, the corpse would make short work of them.

Dellis quickly wriggled out from beneath her as the creature prepared for another attack. He picked up the shield, taking a moment to get accustomed to its weight, and looked around for Cassandra's sword. Having dropped it as they slid down the hill, he saw it several meters away. After ensuring that the corpse's attention was squarely on him, he risked moving away from Cassandra to collect the blade.

"Cassandra!" he shouted, tossing it toward her. She had already gotten to her feet and picked up the sword with her good arm as Dellis pulled his dagger out of the sheath on his belt.

Dellis raised the shield as the warhammer swung toward his head, jumping back in an attempt to avoid the bulk of the blow. Having very little experience with a shield, it took all his skill, and likely a measure of luck, to simply hold on to it. As he raised the shield to block another blow, the corpse screeched and whirled around, throwing Cassandra backward into the mud. Dellis could see her sword sticking out of the corpse's back.

Wasting no time, Dellis dropped the shield and leapt onto the creature's back. It howled as it clawed at him. Dellis whipped the knife around, drawing it across the corpse's throat with a much force as he could muster. The pair tumbled to the ground, giving Dellis the opportunity to rip Cassandra's sword from its back and finish the job.

"Are you alright?" he asked, jogging toward where the Seeker stood, having finally gotten back to her feet.

"Seal it," she ordered, taking her sword from his hand and gritting her teeth. She warded off several of the less dangerous undead as Dellis quickly sealed the rift. Much to his surprise, unlike with previous rifts, the undead remained.

"Well shit," he grumbled, pulling his bow back out. With new undead no longer erupting from the ground, mopping up the remaining corpses was a simple matter.

Dellis jogged toward where he had left Cassandra's shield. The blow of the warhammer had left a deep dent in what had once been a beautiful piece of armor. He frowned, knowing the blow was likely strong enough to have broken her arm. She must have been in incredible pain, though he could barely tell from the expression on her face.

"We should press on," she suggested as the rest of the group approached them. As she sheathed her sword Dellis handed her the shield, watching as she slung it onto her back with her right hand.

"Are you alright?" he asked quietly enough that the rest of the group would not hear.

"Do not worry over me," Cassandra replied dismissively. Dellis dropped the subject, though he did notice that her left arm was tucked close at her side. He prayed they did not run into any more undead before finding Stroud.

"He should be in this cave," Hawke announced as they arrived at the location marked on the map. Dellis was happy simply to be out of the rain, as were the rest judging from their expressions. He could even hear Solas breathe a sigh of relief as they entered the dank but otherwise dry cavern.

"We should return here after finding this Warden," Solas suggested as they walked down the narrow passages. "That the rifts spawn undead rather than demons can be no coincidence."

"I would agree," Dellis replied with a nod. "Something is going on here that needs to be stopped."

"I'm surprised we haven't run into any other Wardens," Hawke confessed as they neared the back of the cave. "They've been out hunting Stroud for weeks."

"Hunting?" Dellis asked.

"Yes," Hawke frowned. "They've been given bad orders. I'm sure Stroud can explain more."

As they reached the back of the caverns Dellis could hear the sounds of movement inside. Several tattered banners scattered along the walls suggested that the cave itself might have once been the home of smugglers or slavers. Inside, however, was their quarry.

There was barely time to react before a blade found its way to Dellis's throat. There was a commotion behind him as Cassandra leapt forward, sword in hand and pointed at Stroud. Dellis swallowed as he could feel a drop of blood run down his neck.

"Stop!" Hawke shouted, moving forward. Stroud glanced at her, sword unmoving as Cassandra's sword arm wavered only slightly. "Stroud, they're with me. This is the Inquisitor."

"Lower your weapon, Seeker," Stroud ordered, his unflinching eyes turning toward Cassandra.

"You first, Warden," she growled.

"Both of you stop being ridiculous," Dellis ordered, finally breathing a sigh of relief as both warriors lowered their weapons.

"My apologies, Inquisitor," the Warden said after a moment, sheathing his sword. "I am Stroud, of the Grey Wardens."

"Hawke said you might be able to help us fight Corypheus," Dellis replied, rubbing at his neck where the sword had nicked the skin.

"Ah, Corypheus," Stroud sighed. "I know little of Corypheus, and that much only because of my relative seniority. Most Wardens have never heard of him."

"Surely you must know _something_ that can help us," Dellis insisted with a frown.

"When Hawke slew Corypheus, Weisshaupt was happy to put the matter to rest," Stroud explained. "But an Archdemon can survive wounds that seem fatal, and I feared Corypheus might possess the same power."

"That would explain why Hawke insists she killed Corypheus and yet he still lives," Solas mused from behind them.

"My investigation uncovered clues but no proof," Stroud continued. "Then, not long after, every Warden in Orlais began to hear the Calling."

"You didn't mention that in your letters," Hawke interrupted, sounding concerned. "That doesn't sound like a good thing."

"The Calling?" Dellis repeated. "I'm sorry, my background didn't provide much in the way of education about the Wardens."

"The Calling is difficult to explain to an outsider," Stroud told him. "Suffice it to say that The Calling signals the end of a Warden's life. It is tied to the taint and every Warden experiences it when their time grows short."

"But you said _every_ Warden in Orlais is hearing The Calling," Dellis reminded him. "Do you think Corypheus is doing this?"

"Possibly," Stroud returned. "I believe it is tied to Corypheus, though I do not know if he does this intentionally or if it simply convenient coincidence."

"So, all the Wardens in Orlais think they're dying?" Hawke asked.

"What would Thedas do if all the Wardens fell?" Stroud returned. "There would be no one to fight the next Blight. It is our greatest fear."

"So, then the Wardens do something desperate," Hawke realized, "which of course is exactly what Corypheus would want."

"So, is this Calling real or is Corypheus somehow creating a false Calling?" Dellis asked, scratching his head.

"I know not, but the Wardens believe that this Calling is real, which is enough," Stroud explained. "They will act accordingly."

Dellis's brow furrowed. "So you feel it too, then?"

"Yes, unfortunately," Stroud sighed. "We must uncover what Corypheus has done and end it. This cannot stand."

"Well, we certainly can't let all the Grey Wardens run off into the deep roads to die," Hawke declared.

"Warden-Commander Clarel spoke of a blood magic ritual to prevent future Blights before we all perished," Stroud explained, walking toward a small table near the center of the cavern. "When I protested the plan as madness, my own comrades turned on me." He pointed toward a map sitting on the table. "Grey Wardens are gathering here, in the Western Approach. It is an ancient Tevinter ritual tower. Come with me there, and we will find answers."

The group decided to rest before returning to Skyhold. Dellis turned toward Blackwall, who had hung back during the conversation with Stroud. He seemed slightly uneasy and eager to leave.

"You didn't tell me you were hearing this Calling Stroud mentioned," Dellis said as he approached, gaining the larger man's attention.

"It's nothing," Blackwall replied, his arms crossed as he leaned against the cavern wall. "I do not fear Corypheus's games."

"You're sure you're alright?"

"I'm here for the Inquisition, Trevelyan," Blackwall insisted. "Nothing will stop me from giving a hundred percent."

"Good to hear," Dellis smiled, his eyes turning toward Cassandra. She had moved away from the rest of the group and was sitting on a rocky outcropping on the other side of the cavern, slowly flexing her left hand with a pained expression on her face. She was so focused that she didn't see him approach. "Let me take a look at it."

Cassandra's eyes snapped upward to see Dellis staring down at her. "I'm fine," she continued to insist, breaking eye contact and likely hoping he would leave. Instead he crouched down next to her.

"It must be broken," he returned stubbornly. "Had I been in your shoes I'm certain I'd be crying like a baby."

"Perhaps it is better that it was me, then," she returned. Dellis simply stared at her expectantly, finally content to hear a conceding sigh. "Fine."

Dellis carefully took hold of her gauntlet, pulling it off as gently as possible. He heard a hiss of pain as the glove slid off, revealing that the skin or her arm was already purpling with bruises. "I suppose I should thank you for sacrificing your well-being to prevent me from becoming a paste in the mud."

"Unfortunately, your well-being is more important than my arm," she replied with an uncharacteristic smile.

Dellis quickly caught Solas's attention and waved the elf over. "Our run-in with the warhammer did not go well for the Seeker," Dellis explained as Solas turned his attention to Cassandra's arm. She seemed annoyed to be doted upon. "Is there anything you can do for her until we return to Skyhold?"

"I might be able to reduce the pain for a time," Solas offered, "however magic can only do so much, and this is not the best environment for healing magic."

"Do what you can for now," Dellis directed him, earning another sigh from the Seeker. "Once you're done we return to Skyhold."


	13. The Continuing Battle

The group had returned to Skyhold after the meeting with Stroud to rest and resupply. At Stroud's urging it was decided that no time should be wasted in locating the Wardens in the Western Approach, since time was of the essence. Despite heavy protests, Cassandra finally agreed to remain at the keep in the care of Solas and the other healers.

Dellis had no words to describe his utter distaste for the Western Approach. If he could go the rest of his life without ever encountering sand again he would die a happy man. He knew he'd be finding sand in his boots for weeks.

"Ugh, there is sand __everywhere__ ," Sera complained. "Nobody should ever have sand where I have sand."

"I did not need that image in my head, Sera," Dorian told her with a grimace. "But I agree that sand is a horrible atrocious thing and I would thank you to never bring me here again, Dell."

"You'll hear no complaints from me if we never come back here," Dellis agreed, shifting awkwardly as a particularly large grain of sand dug into his heel.

"Offer still stands," Bull said with a chuckle from behind them.

"And I __still__ have too much pride," Dellis returned with a grin.

"Pfft, well I don't," Sera proclaimed, darting around Bull's backside.

"Hey!" he grumbled as she deftly climbed up his back, plopping down on his shoulders and grabbing hold of his horns to right herself. "Careful!'

"I cannot actually believe that just happened," Dorian commented, eyes wide with surprise.

"I can't believe he __let__ her," Dellis laughed, watching Sera grin as Bull simply sighed in defeat.

"Giddyup!" the elf shouted.

"I'm not a horse, Sera," Bull growled.

"You are today," she giggled, pointing forward. He sighed again, this time as loudly as possible.

"You shouldn't have said anything," Dellis told him with a cockeyed smile.

"I'm going to remember this, Boss," the qunari promised with a roll of his eye.

"Sera reminds me of two of my companions from Kirkwall," Hawke mentioned with a giggle. "Remind me to tell Varric when we get back."

The six of them trudged through the desert sands, the sun beating down on their shoulders. Dellis could feel sweat clinging to his back under the heavy armored jacket he wore. He'd had Harritt and Dagna find him a replacement after peeling himself out of the mud-caked armor he'd worn in Crestwood. Mud, much like sand he'd decided, gets everywhere.

"That should be the ritual tower up ahead," Stroud announced, pointing into the distance. In the otherwise barren desert landscape, Dellis could indeed see a small structure jutting above the sand. A few minutes of plodding through the dunes brought them to the gates.

"Blast, it looks like they've already started," Hawke growled as she looked across the bridge toward the main tower. Indeed, Dellis could see the small forms of a number of Grey Wardens within the tower and other less human figures.

"Demons," Iron Bull growled, his hands clamping down harder on Sera's legs.

"Ow, watch it you big shite," the elf snarled, kicking at him. The towering qunari released her and the elf wasted no time in climbing down from her now angry steed.

"Blood magic, I'd wager," Hawke continued as they began to walk across the bridge. "You can smell it."

Just as the group approached the tower, Dellis could see a mage stab a fellow Grey Warden. The poor man's body fell lifeless to the cobblestones below. A moment later a demon erupted from beside the body.

"Now bind it, just as I showed you," a voice echoed. The Warden did as he was commanded, pacifying the demon as Dellis entered into view.

"You are no Warden," Stroud accused from behind him.

"But you are," the man purred. "The one Clarel let slip." The man turned his attention to Dellis. "Inquisitor. What an unexpected pleasure." He bowed deeply, a mocking gesture to be sure. "Lord Livius Erimond of Vyrantium, at your service."

"You killed him in cold blood," Dellis accused, his eyes falling to the lifeless body before him.

"What, him?" Erimond laughed. "We simply needed his blood." He paused for a moment. "Oh, were you hoping to garner sympathy with the Wardens for their lost comrade? I'm afraid that is impossible."

"Do not underestimate the Wardens, Magister," Stroud warned through gritted teeth.

The magister smiled, chuckling lightly at the threat. "Wardens, hands up," he ordered. Each warden raised their hand. "Hands down." Each Warden lowered their hand.

"Corypheus has taken their minds," Stroud explained, more than a hint of sadness in his voice. It was shortly replaced by anger.

"They did this to themselves," Erimond explained with a smug grin. "You see, the Calling had the Wardens terrified. They looked __everywhere__ for help."

"They were looking for help for something __you__ did to them," Hawke snarled, taking a step forward in front of Stroud.

"Yes, it was my __master__ who put the Calling into their little heads," Erimond confirmed. "When the Wardens came crying for help, we Venatori were prepared." He chuckled again, reveling in the rage that poured from both Stroud and Hawke. "I went to Clarel full of sympathy and together we came up with a plan. Raise a demon army, march into the Deep Roads, and kill the Old Gods before they awake."

"A demon army," Dellis breathed, remembering what Cassandra had told him in the Redcliffe dungeons. "That was in the future I saw at Redcliffe."

"And now you know how it begins," Erimond laughed. "Sadly for the Wardens, the binding ritual I taught their mages has a side effect. They're now my master's slaves." He laughed deeply to himself. "You should have seen Clarel agonize over the decision to perform the ritual. Burdens of command, I suppose."

"Release the Wardens from the binding and surrender," Dellis growled, pulling out his bow. "I won't ask twice."

"No, you won't," Erimond laughed, holding out his hand. A red light erupted, much like what he'd seen from Corypheus at Haven. He dropped to his knees as the anchor burned in his palm. Dellis quickly put his other hand up to prevent his companions from attacking. "The Elder One showed me how to deal with you, in the event you were foolish enough to interfere again," Erimond told him, his amused grin now gone. "That mark you bear? The anchor that lets you pass safely through the veil? You stole that from my master. He's been forced to seek other ways to access the Fade. When I bring him your head, his gratitude will be-"

Erimond cried out in pain as an arrow lanced into his shoulder. Dellis turned his head to see Sera standing next to him, a smug grin on her face.

"Mother-bleeding tit-face," she growled, pulling out another arrow.

"Kill them!" Erimond shouted as he pulled the arrow out of his shoulder and retreated.

Iron Bull was the first to join the fray. Dellis has always noted that his deep-seated fear of demons always seemed to drive him to fight harder and this was no exception. His man-sized sword cut great swathes through the demonic horde and the Wardens alike, giving the less martial of the group time to retreat to safer ground.

Sera quickly leapt atop one of the short stone columns along the edge of the tower, loosing arrow after arrow. Stroud kept his focus on the demons and Dellis could certainly understand the preference. Bull had already cut down several of the Wardens and he couldn't very well ask Stroud to kill one of his own.

Hawke and Dorian were tag teaming the Wardens, with Hawke on offense and Dorian focusing on crowd control. Between the two of them they had taken down the majority of the Wardens' forces within minutes. Dellis actually found that he had little work to do as the rest of the group cut down the enemy with little trouble.

"Well, I guess it's not __real__ blood magic until someone gets sacrificed," Hawke said as they regrouped, bowing her head slightly.

"Human sacrifice, demon summoning..." Dellis shook his head, unable to hide a scowl. "Who looks at this and thinks it's a good idea?"

"The fearful and the foolish," Hawke grumbled, leaning on her staff.

"Grey Wardens fight the Blight, no matter the cost," Stroud explained, his face haggard as his eyes fell on the bodies of his former comrades. "The rituals, the sacrifices... It is too far, even for me, but I can understand them making the decision."

"Everyone has a story they tell themselves to justify bad decisions," Hawke accused, a bite to her tone and anger on her face. "It never matters."

Stroud sighed heavily at her words. Dellis knew the whole ordeal likely hurt him more than he let on, especially given the anger both he and Hawke could not hide. "I believe I may know where the Wardens are, Inquisitor," Stroud announced after a moment of awkward silence. "There's an abandoned Warden fortress in the direction Erimond fled called Adamant."

"I guess it makes sense to summon a demon army away from prying eyes," Hawke quipped, her features less hardened.

"We can have our agents scout out Adamant to confirm that the other Wardens are there," Dellis offered, prompting a very small smile from the Grey Warden.

"Well then, if we're quite settled here might I suggest we return to Skyhold?" Dorian chimed in. "I am __very__ tired of all this sand."

* * *

Cassandra sat at a table on the third floor of the militia forge, nose deep in latest chapter of her favorite serial. She hadn't had a chance to catch up with it since the Inquisition was formed, but now that she had been forbidden from doing just about anything she had an unexpected overabundance of time and nothing with which to fill it.

The building was warm from the heat of the forge, and the smiths were hard at work creating and repairing armor and weapons for the Inquisition soldiers. They paid her no mind and the sounds of the forge and the lingering pain in her left arm did little to bother her.

> **_The Knight-Captain sighed heavily as her eyes fell on Donnen. She was sure he would side with the templars, against her. "Donnen, you know that I am innocent," she insisted, her breath airy and desperate. "You mustn't believe the lies."_ **

As she turned the page Cassandra bit her lip, eager to find out what would happen to the Knight-Captain. She reached across the table to pick up a mug of tea, taking a quick sip before turning her attention back to the book. Engrossed as she was, she did not hear the footsteps coming up the stairs over the din of the forge.

"Good book?"

Cassandra all but shrieked in surprise as she whirled around in her seat to face Dellis, groaning as her arm knocked the back of the chair. He stopped short, a wince on his face.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," he told her, moving closer to the table. Dellis walked around opposite her and seated himself, his back to the forge.

"It is loud in here and I did not hear your approach," she explained quickly, closing the book and laying it face down on the table. "I was not expecting company quite so soon."

He chuckled, resting his hands on the table. "I could go back to the Western Approach if you prefer."

Cassandra sighed, feeling the flushing in her cheeks as he looked at her. "Was there something you needed, Trevelyan?"

"I just wanted to see how you were doing," he told her, nodding his head toward the sling her left arm rested in.

"I will be fine," she assured him. "Solas insists that I rest it."

"So you're reading."

"Yes, I'm reading," Cassandra said with an annoyed huff. "Is that so surprising?"

"It's just not something I pictured you doing," Dellis replied with a shrug. "What __are__ you reading, anyway?"

"It's of no interest to you, I'm certain," Cassandra insisted, feeling her cheeks grow warmer. She could not understand why he even cared.

It took her a moment to realize Dellis was inspecting the book. "That looks familiar," he said after a moment as she tried to hide it. "Wait, isn't that one of Varric's books?"

"You read Varric's serials?" Cassandra blurted without thinking. She immediately regretted it as the Inquisitor's face brightened. He smiled from ear to ear, as if he had just uncovered some deep secret.

"Wait, you're __actually__ reading one of Varric's serials?"

"Maker have mercy on me," Cassandra whispered under her breath. "It's the latest chapter of Swords & Shields."

"The latest chapter?" Dellis repeated. "Meaning you've read them all?"

Cassandra huffed in annoyance. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Maybe just a little," he admitted, smiling that crooked smile he always seemed to save for her. She was immediately uncomfortable. "If memory serves, Swords & Shields is Varric's romance serial."

"How could you possibly know that?" she asked in astonishment.

"I've read them," he said with a shrug. "Not recently, mind you, but they were fairly cheap in Denerim."

"You've read Swords & Shields?" Cassandra asked, unable to hide her surprise.

"Are you surprised that I've read the serial or that I __can__ read?" Dellis asked, his face suddenly serious.

"I did not mean to suggest that you were illiterate," Cassandra clarified. "I am simply surprised that you would choose __this__ of all things to read."

"I confess, I did prefer Hard in Hightown," he told her with a smile.

"You are mocking me," Cassandra accused with an annoyed sigh.

"Me? Never." Dellis couldn't help but chuckle lightly as she rolled her eyes at him. "I am just impressed that under that taciturn shell beats a true romantic heart."

"Why must it be an accusation?" she asked. "Romance is not the sole province of dithering ladies in frilly dresses."

Cassandra's eyes narrowed as Dellis burst out into laughter. "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid now you have me picturing you in a dress."

She snorted in disgust. "You are absolutely insufferable, Trevelyan. Do you know that?"

"I _do_ know that, in fact," he conceded, trying to stop laughing as he beamed at her. "Don't get me wrong, though. I like this side of you."

"You like the __frivolous__ side of me?" she asked in an accusatory tone.

"Yes, I like the side of you that isn't all marching orders and glares and disgusted noises."

"You have experienced two of the three in the last five minutes," she reminded him, unable to hide a smile.

"And it was totally worth it," Dellis smiled back.

Cassandra sighed, picking up her tea. "You had __real__ business to attend to…?"

"I really just came to make sure you were alright," Dellis admitted, "although you'll be vexed to know that we interrupted a blood magic ritual facilitated by a Tevinter Magister who is part of the Venatori and has bound the Wardens to Corypheus's every command."

It was all Cassandra could do not to choke on her tea. "Oh, is that all?" she asked sarcastically.

"We're having the Inquisition's scouts sent to Adamant Fortress in the Western Approach," he explained. "Once they return we'll know whether it's the Warden's base of operations or not."

"We must prepare if we are to assault Adamant," Cassandra told him. "I will not sit on the sidelines for this."

"You need to heal first," Dellis told her firmly. "Besides, you're right that we need to prepare. I will not go rushing into danger head-first without good cause."

Cassandra sighed in defeat. "You are right, of course."

"It happens every now and then," he told her with a smile. Cassandra watched him for a moment as he looked around the forge. She hadn't paid it any mind earlier, however now that the conversation had become less awkward, she noticed that he still wore his armor. He must have set off to find her immediately upon his return to Skyhold. "It's a bit warm in here."

"It's a forge," Cassandra reminded him with a smile. She pointed down toward the main level. "There's fire over there. They make swords in it."

"Very funny," he smiled. "Do you spend a lot of time up here?"

"I'm usually not disturbed here," she explained. "The heat does not bother me."

"Dressed like that I'm not surprised," he mused, gesturing toward her outfit. Having been forbidden to do any kind of self-exertion, Cassandra had forgone her normal battle-ready attire in favor of a much lighter tunic. She realized it was probably not laced quite as high as she would have preferred, considering her current company.

"Perhaps if you had changed before seeking me out you would not feel such a need to complain," she replied, trying not to blush.

"I think that's my cue to leave you to your book," Dellis returned with a cocksure smile, standing up from the table and bowing at the waist. Cassandra couldn't help but smile.

"Josephine would be proud of you." Cassandra felt herself still smiling as his footsteps echoed down the stairs. She shook her head, opening the book up and returning to her story.

* * *

Dellis took Cassandra's advice and stopped by his quarters to change out of his heavy jacket and into something much lighter. He received daily lectures from Josephine about the virtues of wearing more appropriate attire, and yet he always ended up in breeches and a tunic. He refused to even look at the doublets she kept having sent to his room.

As he headed down the stairs toward the throne room, Dellis's mind wandered back to his conversation with Cassandra. He was surprised she had tolerated him so well and was fairly certain she hadn't noticed his wandering eyes, else he was sure even one-armed that he would have been gifted with a black eye.

Dellis opened the door to the main hall and made a beeline for Varric. He sat at his usual table near the entrance to the throne room, as he always did when he was not in the tavern. A deck of cards lay strewn across its surface as Dellis approached, leading him to wonder who Varric's latest victim had been.

"Good game of Wicked Grace?" he asked.

"Poor Sparkler just never knows when to quit," Varric confirmed with a smile, scooping up a pile of coins and what looked to be a Tevinter ring.

"You're going to give that back to him, right?" Dellis asked, gesturing at the piece of jewelry.

"Of course, Squiggles," Varric promised. "Just going to give him a few days to fret about it so he learns what not to bet."

"How generous of you," Dellis smiled. "Look, I have a favor to ask."

"I'm pretty sure I owe you a thing or two," Varric replied with a shrug. "What do you need?"

"It turns out Cassandra is a big fan of your Swords & Shields serial," Dellis explained, smiling brightly as Varric's face twisted in confusion.

"I think I must have misheard you," the dwarf replied. "It sounded like you said that Cassandra read my books."

"Judging from the way she squealed when I caught her reading it, I'd say she's a pretty __big__ fan."

"Are we talking about the same Cassandra?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. "Tall, grumpy Seeker? Likes stabbing things?" Dellis nodded, trying to hold back a laugh. "Wait, did you say the __romance__ serial? She'll be waiting a while, then. I haven't finished it and wasn't planning to."

"Why not?" Dellis asked. "I didn't think it was too bad."

"Maker's balls, you've read it too?" Varric asked with a groan. "It's easily the worst I've ever written. The last issue barely sold enough to pay for the ink."

"The way I see it, you owe __me__ , and it would probably be a safe way to apologize to __her__ for lying about Hawke," Dellis suggested, his arms crossed.

"You do make a fair point," Varric shrugged. "So... You want me to finish writing the latest issue of my worst serial. For Cassandra."

"That's about the size of it."

"That's such a terrible idea that I just have to do it," Varric agreed with a devious grin. "On one condition: I get to be there when you give her the book."

"She'll string us both up from the front gate," Dellis laughed. "Although I suppose I can't really deny you the amusement, can I?"

"Not unless you want me to tell her you've got puppy dog eyes for her," Varric threatened with a smile.

Dellis's grin faded. "I don't... That's not..."

"Kidding, Squiggles," Varric told him. "Although your reaction is making me wonder. I mean I'll be the first to admit that she's absolutely __gorgeous__ \- for a human - but she's also just as likely to stab you when you make her angry."

"Which is often, for you," Dellis reminded him with a smile.

"You aren't kidding," Varric laughed. "You know, the fact that the book is terrible just makes it more worthwhile somehow."

"It'll be __completely__ worth it, Varric. I promise."

"I'll let you know when it's done," the dwarf promised. "In the meantime, do me a favor and make sure she doesn't try to kill me again."


	14. A Game of Wicked Grace

"You can never quite get away from the demons, can you?" Krem asked, picking up his mug as he sat in the Herald's Rest with Dellis, Iron Bull, and Sera.

"Every day I keep hoping maybe the Boss will find us something nice to fight, like a dragon," Bull chuckled, gulping down what seemed like it must have been half his tankard. "But no, he always finds us _demons_."

"Isn't Lady Battering Ram a dragon slayer?" Sera asked with a snort. The elf's face softened slightly as her eyes dropped toward the table, a grin pulling at the corner of her lips.

"I think our little Sera is having a moment," Bull laughed. "I admit, Cassandra taking on a dragon single handed would be pretty hot."

"Shut it," Sera growled, not fully able to wipe the lewd smile off her face.

"I should drink with you all more often," Dellis chuckled, holding his tankard up. His three companions did likewise, clanking them together hard enough that ale sloshed out onto the table.

"There's always room for more at the Chargers' table," Krem offered with a grin, his eyes wandering slightly as one of the barmaids wandered past.

Dellis began to speak but a stammering voice from behind him interrupted their conversation. "Y-your worship?"

"Harding?" he asked, turning in his seat. "What's wrong?"

"I think maybe you should go check on Lady Cassandra," the lead scout suggested, blushing slightly as the Inquisitor stared at her.

"That's awfully convenient timing," Bull laughed, clapping Dellis on the back.

"I don't think there's anything convenient about it," Harding mumbled.

"Let's step outside, shall we?" Dellis suggested, getting up from his seat and giving the rest of the group a half wave as he followed Harding out of the tavern. "What's the problem?"

"I was on my way to see Ser Morris in the requisitions office when I heard shouting from the clinic," Harding explained, wringing her hands slightly as she looked down at her boots. "A few moments later Lady Cassandra came storming out and nearly trampled me."

"Oh dear, Solas must have refused to clear her for combat," Dellis guessed with a wince. "Where was she headed?"

"Toward the forge, I think," Harding explained, smirking slightly. "I _think_ she might be angry."

"That's most certainly an understatement," Dellis laughed. "Thank you for warning me, Harding."

"N-no problem, Inquisitor," she replied with a smile. Dellis quickly ducked back inside the tavern, much to Bull's amusement.

"Did she finally snap and kill someone?" he asked, crossing his enormous arms over his equally enormous chest.

"Nothing so fanciful, unfortunately," Dellis replied. He turned his attention to Krem, pointing down at the table. "Do you mind if I borrow these?"

"The cards?" the soldier asked, shrugging his shoulders slightly. "Agree to play a game with us later and they're all yours, Boss."

"Somehow, I think I might regret this," Dellis grinned, picking up the deck of cards and throwing a sloppy salute before leaving again. He expected that Cassandra was up in the loft of the forge, fuming.

This time she heard him coming up the stairs, sighing as he peeked his head over the railing. "What do you want?"

"I heard a rumor you were a bit out of sorts," Dellis replied, smiling as he approached. Cassandra stood next to the window with her arms crossed, her jaw set into a sullen scowl. She said nothing and looked back out the window. "Come on, I thought maybe I could cheer you up."

Cassandra snorted a laugh, glancing over her shoulder at him. "How exactly did you expect to do that?"

Dellis held up the deck of cards. "Wicked Grace?"

"You're joking."

"Varric is pining for us all to play one of these days," Dellis explained, sitting down and removing the twine holding the deck of cards together, "so I thought it might be good practice."

"Varric," Cassandra growled under her breath.

"Please promise me you won't kill him," Dellis requested with a half-smile as he started to shuffle the deck. Cassandra watched him out of the corner of her eye as he began dealing the cards. "You _know_ you want to play."

"Alright, fine," she conceded with a sigh, moving away from the table and taking a seat across from him.

Dellis pushed the already dealt hand to her. "So, to play Wicked Grace you-"

"I know how to play Wicked Grace," Cassandra interrupted him impatiently. She seemed bemused as he stared at her in surprise. "Why is it so difficult for you to believe that I have played before?"

"Well I just thought, you know, being a Seeker and all, that-"

"That we would sit around praying in the Chantry all day?" Cassandra smiled and picked up her cards, taking a moment to peruse her hand. Dellis could feel a broad smile sneaking onto his face.

"I feel like the clerics wouldn't much appreciate that," he replied, looking over his own hand. Two knights, a dagger, an angel of fortitude, and a serpent. Not the worse hand he could have dealt himself, but only passable. "I see you're feeling better."

"Not that Solas cares," Cassandra grumbled, discarding one of her cards and drawing a new one. "If he doesn't let me do _something_ soon I will surely go mad."

"Why do you think I brought the cards up here?" Dellis asked with a wink, earning an annoyed sigh.

"I do not need a babysitter, Trevelyan," she told him, rolling her eyes as he discarded his dagger card.

"Do you spend _all_ your free time up here?" Dellis asked casually, for the first time noting the bedroll in the corner. Did she sleep in the forge as well?

"Apparently I can't anymore, since you seem to wander up here so often," Cassandra complained, discarding another card.

"I'm not so bad," Dellis assured her with a light laugh, discarding his serpent and drawing a new card. Though he showed nothing on his face, his hand was fairly abysmal. He now had the same two knights, the angel, a song, and another dagger. He was right back where he started.

"I suppose it could be worse," Cassandra agreed, casually drawing another card. "I could be stuck with Varric."

"Again, no killing," Dellis reminded her, pulling another card from the deck. He sighed as he looked at the angel of death, turning it around in his hand. "This round's over, I think."

Dellis laid down his cards, showing the pair of knights. He could see Cassandra smirk slightly as she laid down a pair of daggers and a pair of serpents.

"Well played, Seeker," he told her with a smile, gathering up the cards and beginning to shuffle them.

"Tell me, Trevelyan," Cassandra began as he started to deal. "How does a boy from Lothering learn to shoot as you do?"

"The Dalish," Dellis replied casually, tossing one of his cards down and picking up another.

"You expect me to believe that the Dalish clan outside Lothering taught you archery?" she asked with a laugh, picking up a new card.

"Not the entire clan, just one of them," he explained, his cheek twitching slightly as the words escaped his mouth. He hoped Cassandra hadn't picked up on it. Naturally she had.

"You were tutored by one elf?" she asked, studying his reaction closely as she set down another card.

"Yes, she taught me how to hunt as the elves did," Dellis replied after a moment's hesitation. "I had tried to help the farmer that took me in by hunting game, but I had no experience. This Dalish girl happened upon me in the woods just north of the wilds and watched me struggle for hours." He laughed to himself as Cassandra listened patiently. "I couldn't even kill a nug."

Dellis tossed down another card and picked a fresh one up off the deck. It took him a long moment to even acknowledge its suit as his mind became lost in the past. He could remember her, the scent of sandalwood in her hair and the faint tattoos on her face. He could almost see her crystal blue eyes staring at him in the muddled light of the forest.

"This woman was important to you?" Cassandra asked, breaking him out of his trance.

"Woman might be a bit of a stretch," Dellis chuckled. "She was no more than fourteen when we met."

As Cassandra drew the next card, she turned it around: it was the angel of death. Dellis set his hand down, showing a pair of daggers and a pair of songs. Cassandra laid down three serpents.

Dellis raised his eyebrow in surprise. "You really _have_ played Wicked Grace, haven't you?"

She smiled, pushing her cards toward him. "Perhaps it's good we did not bet on these games."

"Perhaps," he echoed, grinning slightly as he shuffled the cards. As he dealt the hand he palmed several extra cards, giving himself a slight advantage as they began.

"So, this Dalish girl taught you to hunt," Cassandra repeated, eliciting a sigh from Dellis. He had hoped she would drop the subject, but he should have known better.

"Yes, she taught me how to use the environment as an ally rather than obstacle," Dellis explained. "How to read the wind and listen." He smiled, shaking his head slightly. "Humans never _listen_ to anything. We simply act and pray."

"An interesting perspective," Cassandra mused, picking up another card. Dellis carefully discarded his cards in a way he hoped would not reveal the extra cards in his hand. "Why are you not with her now?"

He snorted a laugh as he looked down at his cards. "Come on, can you really picture me settling down with a Dalish clan?" Dellis grew silent at the look she gave him. It was a look of sympathy, one that he had never seen from her before.

Try as he might to hide it, Cassandra could hear the pain in his voice as he spoke, even if he would deny it. Dellis sighed, picking up another card. "They found us together a few years later," he explained softly. "I had the choice to either stay, and endanger the already precarious peace between the Dalish and the people of Lothering, or leave."

"That is why you went to Denerim," Cassandra realized. Dellis nodded in confirmation.

"The skills the Dalish can teach you are extraordinarily useful for surviving on your own," he explained with a shrug. "I was seventeen by then. It wasn't so bad."

"I am sorry," Cassandra told him, the sincerity in her words obvious. "I should not have pried."

"You didn't pry," Dellis reminded her, picking up another card. "If I really didn’t want to talk about it I would have said so."

Dellis smiled as he looked at his newest card. Had he been playing honestly, the match would have ended turns ago, since he'd long since picked up the angel of death. Now that his hand was stronger, however, he was ready to play it. He set the card down in front of them along with the rest of his cards - two serpents and three songs.

"A strong hand," Cassandra commented with a smile. His jaw dropped as Cassandra set down four knights. "How long have been cheating?"

"You _knew_ I was cheating?" Dellis asked, his mouth still agape.

"I am a Seeker of Truth," Cassandra reminded him with the most irritating smile she could have possibly given him.

"I can't believe you won after I _cheated_ ," he complained, crossing his arms over his chest and sitting back in the chair with a huff.

"Perhaps it was the Maker's will," she suggested, her smirk growing wider as his frown deepened.

"You can't _really_ believe the Maker is that invested in you beating me at a card game," Dellis returned, pouting like a child.

"Three times," she pointed out, satisfied to see him glower deeply at her.

Dellis made a noise that could rival any of Cassandra's in her deepest moments of annoyance before his pout finally softened. "Feeling better?"

"Much, thank you," she confirmed, leaning back in her own chair. "Perhaps I should have warned you that I am a notorious Wicked Grace player among the other Seekers."

"That might have been nice," Dellis said, the sarcasm in his voice plain.

"This will not be the first time your pride is tested, Inquisitor," Cassandra reminded him.

"Of course not," Dellis agreed, "though it may certainly be the last time it's tested by Wicked Grace." Finally he smiled, the same lopsided grin as always. "We'll have to think of something else to do if you're cooped up much longer."

"Maker preserve me if I am," she returned with a sigh. "Thank you, though. This was a pleasant distraction."

Dellis got up from his chair and gave her another flourished bow, happy to see a smile blossom on her face. Cassandra shook her head and waved him out. On his way to Josephine's office he left Varric a note that had only one line: _Don't play Wicked Grace with Cassandra._

* * *

When Dellis arrived at Josephine's office, he had asked that her assistant summon the remainder of the war party, namely Leliana and Cullen. It had been over twenty minutes and there was no sign of the man, much to Josephine's chagrin.

"I'm so sorry, Inquisitor," she apologized for the third time. "Usually Ricard is more reliable."

"It's fine," Dellis assured her, also for the third time. He would be the first to admit that he had not spent much time with Josephine in the months he'd been with the Inquisition, but the more he watched her fret over his apparent waste of time the more adorable he thought she was.

"I'll speak with him about punctuality when he returns," Josephine promised, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"Really, Josie, it's not a problem," Dellis assured her, looking through one of the bookshelves behind her.

Dellis was surprised at the diverse nature of the books she kept. He had never bothered to peruse them before, mainly because he had expected to find numerous dry volumes on politics and Antivan history, but as he looked through the shelves he was surprised to find a number of stories, books of poems, and other far less dreary texts than the history of the Fereldan crown. That was not to say he _didn't_ find several volumes on royal lineage.

"So, you're Antivan?" Dellis asked absentmindedly as he plucked a book of children's rhymes off of the bookshelf.

"Aren't you?" she returned. Dellis blinked before turning to look at her.

"What do you mean?" he asked quizzically. Josephine's expression changed from curiosity to embarrassment.

"I-I'm sorry," she stuttered. "I didn't mean to suggest..."

"No, it’s fine, it’s just… what did you mean?" Dellis pried, setting the book back on the shelf.

"I know you're not _from_ Antiva," Josephine clarified, "but I just assumed because of your facial structure that perhaps your parents might have been."

Dellis rubbed a hand along his jaw. He had never really thought about it much in the past but she made a good point. "I have no idea who my parents were, so I suppose it could be true."

"No one has mentioned the possibility to you before?" Josephine asked with a light chuckle. "It seemed obvious to me until you mentioned it just now."

"I spent most of my life in Lothering," Dellis explained with a smile. "I'm not confident anyone there would know an Antivan from a potato sack. By the time I arrived in Denerim it didn't matter anymore."

"I'm sorry," Josephine repeated, though she no longer appeared to be distressed. "If you wish I might be able to find something of your heritage though my Antivan connections." She paused. "I could be wrong, too. That's certainly possible."

Dellis shrugged. "Might as well," he suggested. "It couldn't be any worse than what we already know about me. Maybe we'll be surprised and it'll help."

"Oh, it could be worse," she assured him with a smile. "Hopefully I don't find that your parents were Crows."

"If my parents were assassins I'll resign," he promised jokingly, turning his head as the heavy wooden door to her office opened. Dellis was relieved to see Cullen and Leliana enter, followed by a very petulant looking Ricard.

"There you are," Josephine breathed, her annoyance clear. "What took so long?"

"Don't blame the boy," Cullen urged. "I was in the wine cellar."

"You drink wine?" Leliana asked from beside him, a wry smile on her face.

"On rare occasion," Cullen returned. "In any case, I think we have business to attend to. Shall we be off to the war room?"

"Please," Dellis agreed. "Let's get this over with."

The four of them moved down the hall toward the large room that served as their staging ground for the war against Corypheus. Dellis nodded his head to Varric and Hawke as they passed them in the hall, signaling for them to follow.

"Are our forces prepared for an assault on Adamant?" Dellis asked as the six assembled around the table.

"I believe so," Cullen nodded, pointing to the map. "Adamant Fortress is here, in the Western Approach. It has stood against the darkspawn since the time of the Second Blight."

"That was over eight hundred years ago," Dellis said.

"Yes, and that works in our favor," Cullen explained. "Its age means it was built before the use of modern siege equipment. A good trebuchet will do major damage to those ancient walls."

"And thanks to our dear Josie we now have trebuchets at our disposal," Leliana added, smiling at her friend.

"Lady Seryl of Jader was pleased to lend the Inquisition her sappers," Josephine explained. "They've already delivered the trebuchets to our outpost in the Western Approach."

"That is the extent of the good news," Leliana announced, her face showing only the slightest hint of concern.

"So we can get through walls," Dellis commented, "but what are we to do if there's a horde of demons beyond them?"

"That is the bad news," Leliana admitted.

"The Inquisition forces can breach the gate," Cullen agreed, "but if the Wardens already have their demons..."

"My agents located old records of Adamant's construction," Leliana announced, her gloved hands clasped behind her back. "There are choke points we can use to limit the field of battle."

"That's good," Cullen said with a sigh of relief, turning back to Dellis. "I believe that may allow us to carve you a path to Warden-Commander Clarel."

"So let me make sure I understand this," Dellis began, his brow furrowed slightly. "Our plan is to lay siege to a legendary fortress filled with demons while a handful of us run up, praying to Holy Andraste that our knickers don't burst into flames, and save the day?"

"Not exactly how I would have put it," Leliana replied with a smile, "but I think you have the idea."

"It'll be hard fought, no way around it," Cullen told him, "but we'll get that gate open for you."

"Sounds like good fun," Dellis sighed. "Cullen, get the troops prepared. We'll march first thing in the morning."

As the advisors left the war room, Dellis turned toward Varric and Hawke. He had been surprised that Hawke, in particular, hadn't spoken up, especially given how involved she had been with entire investigation.

"I might have misjudged you, Dellis," Hawke admitted, shifting her weight slightly as Varric leaned against the stone wall. "You've done amazing things here, with the Inquisition."

"I did what needed to be done," he shrugged in reply.

"I'm coming with you to Adamant," Varric announced, pushing off from the wall. "If it weren't for me and Bartrand, none of this would have happened."

"That's not fair, Varric," Hawke told her friend with a frown. "This isn't your fault."

"We tried to change our lives and look what happened." Varric sighed heavily, hanging his head in defeat.

"That's what happens when you try to change things, Varric," Dellis reminded him with a smile. "Things _change_."

"Not everything changes," Varric replied, a smile returning to his face. "Murderous Wardens, Archdemon attacks, plenty of blood mages, and crazy templars. Just like home."

"I know how much you hated leaving Kirkwall," Hawke told him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"I don't imagine we can compete with Kirkwall," Dellis agreed, "although Josie's trying _very_ hard to make life tolerable."

"This is the ass end of Thedas, Squiggles," Varric chuckled. "They eat _snails_ here."

Dellis laughed as his two companions shared a smile. "I will be sure to pass along your meal complaints to the kitchen staff."

"Good, and make sure to ask them to bring in some of that Orlesian ham," Varric added, smiling like himself again. "I _really_ want to know what despair tastes like."

"I'll make a note of it," Dellis promised, turning to leave. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a stubborn elf to talk some sense into before morning."


	15. The Wrath of Heaven

Cassandra had been told that it had not taken much to convince Solas that she was fit for duty. It was clear that Dellis was thrilled she was with them as he cowered behind her and her shield. The smith had done a wonderful job repairing it after its misfortune in Crestwood, and Cassandra had been pleased to see that only the most discerning eye would notice the damage at all.

She was impressed with the force Cullen had amassed. The Wardens were dug in deep, slinging arrows and even stones at the Inquisition's front line as it approached the Adamant Fortress gates. Dellis would peek out from behind her every few moments to fire an arrow at one of the Wardens on the battlements.

"Get that gate open!" Cullen shouted as the battering ram approached the gates. After a few well-placed hits the gate shattered, allowing the Inquisition's forces to spill inside. Cassandra wasted no time in rushing through the opening created by the battering ram, holding her shield up to block an arrow from one of the Warden archers.

"Watch for demons!" Dellis shouted, pointing with his bow. Several shades poured in from deeper within the fortress, eagerly approaching the Inquisition soldiers as they attempted to find cover. Without hesitation Cassandra charged, shield held out in front of her as she slammed into the first demon. She could hear arrows whiz by her head as Dellis provided covering fire from the other demons and the Wardens.

With a quick swing she felled the first shade, leaving it in a heap on the rubble-strewn ground below before it dissipated back to the Fade. She whirled around as one of the Wardens approached, swinging her shield out hard enough to rip the sword from the man's hand as he swung at her. With a quick thrust the Warden crumpled.

Cassandra turned as an arrow whistled past her ear. The body of a charging Warden fell to the ground as Dellis's arrow struck him in the eye socket. The Warden's partner faltered just slightly in his charge, giving Cassandra enough time to raise her shield to block his attack. The Warden's sword clashed with the Seeker's shield, the sound of the collision echoing off the stone walls. Cassandra gritted her teeth as a small wave of pain spread down her arm. Perhaps Solas hadn't been so foolish after all.

"Duck, Cassandra!" a voice shouted from behind her. The Seeker wasted no time in complying, crouching down with her shield in front of her defensively. Though she saw little of it, Cassandra could feel a wave of heat pass her. When she stood, nothing but a burning corpse remained.

"Thank you, Hawke," Cassandra said with a curt nod of her head. The mage smiled in response.

"That seems to be all for the moment," Stroud commented, surveying the field of battle. Inquisition casualties had been minor and the Wardens had suffered far greater losses.

"Inquisitor!" Cullen shouted from behind them as he stepped through the gate.

"Good to see you're in one piece," Dellis returned with his characteristic smile.

"The Inquisition forces can keep the demons occupied here for a time," Cullen announced.

"That's a worrying lack of specificity, there, Commander," Dellis replied with a chuckle.

"There are more of them than I was hoping for," Cullen admitted.

"You don't say," Hawke chuckled sarcastically.

Cullen turned his attention to the apostate. "Hawke, if you would be so kind, our soldiers on the southern battlements could use your help."

"Of course, Commander," Hawke returned with a nod.

"Blackwall, take Sera and Bull and go with Hawke," Dellis ordered. With a nod the three followed Hawke and disappeared down one of the corridors leading deeper into the fortress.

"We should secure the northern battlements," Cassandra suggested, pointing in the opposite direction.

"That would be wise," Cullen agreed. "Our men are having trouble gaining a foothold on the walls."

"So we'll cut them a path," Dellis promised, readying his bow. "Cole, Vivienne, and Dorian, stay with Cullen and Stroud and help keep the gates secure."

The three nodded in affirmation as Dellis moved toward the northern passage. "Impressive," Solas commented after a moment. Dellis glanced over his shoulder, a look of curiosity on his face. "You did well organizing the teams."

"Indeed, I could have done no better," Cassandra agreed.

"Just be thankful this isn't a game of Wicked Grace," Dellis replied with a grin.

As Cassandra shook her head she could hear Varric laughing from behind them. She had to resist the urge to turn around and glare at him. "Come, we must make our way to the battlements."

The four of them moved through the keep with as much haste as possible, stopping every now again to clear out pockets of Wardens and demons. Cassandra was thankful for the narrow hallways within the fortress, as it provided a choke point to protect her less martial charges.

"I hear fighting up ahead," Dellis announced as they began climbing the stairs leading to the battlements. As she crested the top of the stairs, Cassandra had to immediately raise her shield to block a flurry of arrows. Solas quickly put up a barrier, allowing Dellis and Varric to return fire. Cassandra kept the shield up, ready to block any of the projectiles that might make it through the magical barrier.

"Quickly, we must help the soldiers up ahead!" Solas shouted. Cassandra lead them down the battlements toward what appeared to be a group of soldiers fighting a much larger group of demons. She frowned as she realized the Wardens were _attacking_ the demons, not fighting alongside them.

"Is it my imagination or are those Wardens _helping_ our people?" Varric asked, readying Bianca as they advanced.

"They are," Cassandra agreed with a nod. "Perhaps it would be wise not to attack them."

"Agreed," Dellis nodded. "Focus on the demons."

Cassandra moved ahead, toward a group of soldiers from both sides of the fray, and held her shield out in front of her. She quickly sidestepped as the rage demon ahead flung one of the Inquisition soldiers past her, leaving the man crumpled in a pile at the edge of the battlements. She charged in shield first, bowling the rage demon over and briefly stunning it. She turned on her heel and quickly cut with her sword, satisfied to hear a howl of anger from the demon. Before she could attack again one of the Grey Wardens shouted in rage and buried his sword in the demon up to the hilt. It shrieked as it sank to the stones below, its body dissipating in a flurry of red light.

"Wardens, hold!" the man shouted as Cassandra turned her sword on him. The remaining demons had been slain and now the two groups stood face to face in a tense showdown.

"Hold your attack!" Dellis similarly ordered. Cassandra's brow furrowed as she stared at the Warden.

"Maker's balls, that's not possible," Varric nearly gasped as he looked at the man.

"You know him?" Dellis asked with a frown.

"As should you," Cassandra returned with a sigh. "This man is Teryn Loghain."

"Former Teryn," Loghain returned, "but thank you for the reminder, Seeker."

"Wait, Teryn Loghain was executed at the landsmeet," Dellis said, his frown growing deeper.

"Rumors of my execution were greatly exaggerated," Loghain explained, a hint of humor in his voice. He turned to the Wardens, sheathing his sword. "Men, we'll not be fighting the Inquisition today."

"Why _aren't_ you fighting us with the rest of the Wardens?" Dellis asked curiously.

"I know when I'm outmatched," Loghain explained. "I'd rather not sacrifice good men to a lost battle, especially when the battle wasn't worthy in the first place."

"You disagree with Clarel?" Cassandra asked.

"The Warden-Commander and I rarely see eye to eye," Loghain chuckled, turning toward his troops. "These men are the best the Wardens have to offer, and the dear Warden-Commander would have us all sacrificed to summon a few demons."

"Ah yes, you are no mage," Solas chuckled. "I imagine the sacrifice is less appealing."

"I sacrificed Grey Wardens once for the greater good," Loghain said, his tone sarcastic. "It wasn't worth it then, and it won't be now. I have no intention of throwing these men's lives away casually."

"Then you'll fight with us against Clarel?" Dellis asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared the older Warden in the eyes.

"I'll do what needs to be done," Loghain clarified. "So yes, I'll stand with you against Clarel. For now."

"You do not trust the Inquisition?" Cassandra asked, slinging her shield onto her back.

"Would you, if you were in my place?" the Warden asked with a chuckle. "Here you are, attacking our stronghold. Forgive me if I'm a bit apprehensive."

"We'll rest for a few minutes," Dellis announced, taking a seat next to Varric on a stray crate. It didn't take them long to fall deep into conversation.

"How is your arm feeling?" Solas asked, causing Cassandra to jump slightly. He smiled as she turned to face him, though she could not tell if it was in sincerity or amusement.

"Well enough," she confirmed, looking down and flexing her hand slightly. "I fear it may still be sore after we have finished here."

"That is to be expected," the mage returned with a nod. "I am pleased that you are none the worse for wear, all things considered."

She paused a moment before turning her attention back to the apostate. "Solas, might I ask something?"

"Of course," Solas returned with a smile.

"Does this bother you?" she asked, smiling slightly at his confused expression. "Fighting these demons, I mean. You speak often of your connection with the Fade and spirits. Do you feel any regret?"

"These demons are bound to the Warden mages and, ultimately, Corypheus," Solas explained. "Whatever spirits they may have been are no more. So yes, the situation distresses me, but to leave them bound would be a fate far worse than death."

"I had not considered it that way," Cassandra admitted.

"Few would," he returned with a smile.

"I think it's about time we move," Loghain suggested, loud enough for the whole group to hear.

"It would be wise for your men to remain here to hold this part of the battlements," Solas suggested as he approached the Warden.

"Agreed," Loghain said with a nod of his head. He turned toward Dellis. "You, Inquisitor. What do plan to do once you secure the battlements?"

"Once our forces can get a foothold inside the fortress we'll go stop whatever ridiculous plan Clarel and Erimond have put in motion," Dellis explained. "We can't let them continue to summon demons to serve Corypheus."

"Corypheus?" Loghain asked, his surprise genuine. It was clear from his tone that he recognized the name.

"Whatever lies you've been told about the purpose of this demon army are just that: lies," Solas told him with grim determination. "Each mage that binds a demon becomes a slave to the Tevinter magister."

"Well, that figures, doesn't it?" Loghain sighed, pulling out his sword. "You have my arm, Inquisitor. Don't waste it."

The group left the Inquisition's forces with the Wardens at the battlements as they moved toward the south to meet up with Hawke. Cassandra was far more excited to see the Champion jogging down the battlements toward them than she ever would have admitted.

"I see you made it in one-" Hawke stopped short as she saw Loghain, recognizing him immediately. "Well, that's certainly unexpected."

"A long story," Loghain sighed. "You're the Champion of Kirkwall, yes?"

"And you're the betrayer of my home," Hawke returned, smiling slightly. "I suppose we should let bygones be bygones."

"Now would be a _wonderful_ time to let go of old grudges," Dellis agreed, motioning toward the stairs leading down off the battlements. "If you both think you can handle that, we have a demon army to stop."

"Always business first," Hawke sighed. Cassandra shook her head and motioned for Blackwall to follow her.

"This must be difficult for you," she commented as he walked down the steps behind her.

"I've done easier things," Blackwall agreed. "We do what we have to."

Blackwall seemed uninterested in continuing the conversation, so Cassandra pressed on, her shield ready as she led the group through the fortress. They had a few scuffles with demons as they continued on toward the center of the keep. Cassandra pushed the heavy door to the grand hall open and as she stepped through was greeted by a large gathering of Wardens and what appeared to be a rift. Warden-Commander Clarel and Erimond could be seen on a platform in the distance beyond the bulk of the group.

"The Inquisition has breached the fortress, Clarel," Erimond growled. "We need to hurry."

"These men and women are giving their lives, magister," Clarel returned, her face set into a determined scowl. "That might mean little in Tevinter, but for the Wardens it is a sacred duty." The Warden-Commander turned toward another Warden, an older man who approached her slowly. Even at a distance, Cassandra could see the years of experience in his weathered face and the grim determination in his eyes.

"Warden-Commander," he greeted Clarel with a bow. "Though my sword arm can no longer serve the Wardens, I give my blood freely so that we might stop the Blight."

"Your sacrifice will be honored," Clarel said softly as she drew her blade. Cassandra didn't have time to stop Dellis as he dashed forward, shouting as Clarel drew the blade across the Warden's neck. The Warden's body dropped lifelessly to the platform below.

"Stop this nonsense!" Dellis shouted. Several of the Wardens reached for their swords, stopping only as Clarel raised a hand. "Clarel, if you complete this ritual, you're doing _exactly_ what Erimond wants!"

"What, fighting the Blight?" Erimond laughed. "These Wardens are keeping the world safe from darkspawn."

"We make the sacrifices no one else will," Clarel agreed, standing firm on the platform. "Our warriors die proudly for a world that will _never_ thank them."

"And then your Tevinter ally binds the mages to Corypheus!" Loghain shouted, his sword gripped firmly in his hands and his eyes filled with anger.

"Corypheus?" Clarel breathed. "But he's dead."

"These people will say anything to shake your confidence, Clarel," Erimond told her.

"It's the truth," Dellis growled. "I've seen Corypheus with my own eyes."

Clarel faltered for several moments, as if considering the claim. Finally, her eyes hardened, much to Erimond's pleasure. "Bring it through!" she ordered. The Warden mages reached out toward the rift, their entire bodies glowing green as magic tendrils arced out from their bodies.

"Stop them!" Dellis ordered, pulling out his bow. By this point, Stroud had managed to catch up and both he and Hawke moved toward the mages.

Erimond laughed, pulling out his staff and thrusting it forcefully down onto the cobblestones below. "My master thought you might interfere, Inquisitor, so he sent me this to welcome you!"

Cassandra wasted no time in putting up her shield as the all too familiar screech of Corypheus's dragon could be heard. She slid down next to Dellis, putting the shield up to cover them both as the dragon passed by overhead, breathing flame all along its path. She gritted her teeth as the heat seeped through the exposed bits of her armor.

"What would I do without you?" Dellis asked with a smirk as they both got to their feet.

"You would have less hair," Cassandra replied with a grin. Her smile faded as the rift erupted, nearly dropping a pride demon on top of them.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Loghain hissed from behind them. Cassandra grabbed Dellis by the sleeve of his jacket and hauled him to the relative safety of one of the statues littering the grand hall. They huddled together as the dragon's fiery breath singed the stone on either side of them.

"So we have a dragon and a pride demon," Dellis breathed, risking a glance around the pillar. "Can you do anything about the dragon?"

"Not unless it lands," Cassandra replied, glancing over her shoulder as well. The pride demon seemed to have taken more of an interest in Blackwall and Loghain, who had pulled it as far from the rest of the group as they could. Cassandra knew that they had been lucky with the pride demon back at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, since Dellis had been able to close the rift. They would not be so lucky this time.

"This ought to be fun then," Dellis told her with an uneasy smile.

Cassandra took a deep breath before jumping out from behind the column. With her shield in front of her, she moved as quickly as she could toward the lumbering demon. It had been nearly twenty years since she had faced a pride demon in single combat. She hoped that perhaps since this demon was bound rather than an abomination, it might be weaker.

As if on cue, the demon turned as she approached, roaring angrily with a mighty swipe of its clawed arm. The blow caught Blackwall and sent him reeling into the wall behind him. Loghain kept his shield up, but the demon had already set its gaze on Cassandra. With another roar, it reached toward one of the nearby statues, gripping the statue's head with one of its hands. It ripped the head off and hurled it at her. She was able to get her shield up in time, but the strength and angle of the blow sent her tumbling to the ground. She groaned as she pushed herself to her feet, just barely able to dodge an arm.

Cassandra was about to dive for cover when the pride demon howled, its body encased with a green glow. She turned her head to see Dellis, his hand outstretched, wielding the mark as a weapon. Green tendrils shot from his hand and enveloped the demon, seemingly stunning it.

"Can you do that again?" Cassandra shouted.

"I think so," Dellis panted heavily as he nodded at her. Cassandra tossed her shield to the ground with a loud clatter and moved forward to pick up a longsword that had been abandoned in the middle of the battlefield. "What are you doing?"

Cassandra ignored him, quickly dashing toward the demon despite Dellis's trailing protests. She could see the green energy of the mark envelop the demon as she approached. Stunned as it was, it could put up no reasonable defense. Cassandra dashed through its legs, a sword in either hand, and lashed out. As the swords bit into its legs, it fell to its knees with a mighty roar. Cassandra slid to a halt, quickly turning and leaping onto its back. She buried each of the swords up to the hilt as the demon broke free from the mark's energy.

"Maker's balls," Loghain breathed as the demon shot to its feet, roaring angrily. Cassandra clenched her teeth as it tried to throw her off, hanging on to the two swords as best she could. Finally, the beast fell to the stones below, sending Cassandra sprawling off onto her back.

"I cannot believe you just did that," Varric chuckled, looking down at her as she tried to catch her breath. He held out his hand to help her up. After a moment's hesitation, she took it, letting him help her to her feet. Cassandra frowned as she stood, watching Dellis as he stared at the rift.

"I can't seal it," he announced with a frown. "Something's wrong."

"Perhaps the rift is tied to Erimond," Cassandra suggested, her face twisting into a scowl. "Or the dragon."

"We cannot stay here with that dragon circling overhead," Solas replied. "We must move."

"Let us find Erimond and Clarel," Cassandra suggested, glancing up as the dragon flew toward them.

"Quick, run!" Dellis ordered. The group barely managed to avoid another burst of flame as the dragon flew in for another pass. They ran through the hallways leading away from the grand hall, barely evading the dragon several times, until they finally reached the highest point of the fortress. Ahead of them, Cassandra could see Clarel and Erimond.

There was a bright flash as Erimond threw spell after spell at Clarel, who simply shrugged them off with a powerful barrier. Even from behind, Cassandra could sense the Warden-Commander's rage.

"You have _destroyed_ the Grey Wardens!" Clarel snarled, hurling a spell at him strong enough to throw him to the stones below.

"You did that to yourself," Erimond laughed as he pushed himself up with a groan. "All I did was dangle a little power before your eyes, and you couldn't _wait_ to get your hands bloody!"

Clarel's eyes filled with anger as she stared at the magister. With a swing of her staff, she threw a powerful lightning bolt at Erimond, throwing him backward several meters. Clarel stalked forward, seemingly intending to end the Tevinter magister once and for all. Distracted as they all were, no one heard the dragon over the sounds of battle. Cassandra flinched and Sera screamed as the creature dropped down from above, snatching Clarel up in one mighty bite and flying off toward one of the ramparts. It shook its head violently before throwing Clarel's mangled body to the stones below.

The group spread out as the dragon climbed down from its perch and headed straight for Dellis. Cassandra hesitated, torn between rushing forward to protect him and knowing that the beast was now between the two of them. Stroud and Hawke stood behind Dellis, the three of them effectively cut off from the rest of the group.

"Stay back!" Dellis ordered to his companions, pulling back his bowstring and firing an arrow at the dragon. The creature continued its advance, completely unphased as the three backed away slowly. At its back, turned Cassandra reached behind her for her dagger.

Before she could act, there was a bright flash. In her last moments, Clarel unleashed a powerful spell on the dragon just as it passed over her. The beast screeched as it was thrown into the air past Dellis, landing at the end of the platform with a crash. Under its massive weight, the platform itself began to give way. Cassandra dashed forward, but the distance between them was too great. She watched as the stone beneath them crumbled and the three fell into the abyss below.

Cassandra skidded to a halt at the edge of the platform, looking down at the rubble beneath them. The fall itself was surely fatal and the stones that would have fallen over them would merely add insult to injury. She hung her head as she realized that she had finally failed the Inquisition.


	16. The Last Sacrifice

There was a bright green flash as Dellis fell from the platform on Adamant Fortress. He gritted his teeth as he prepared for the worst. The ground loomed ever closer, but he grunted as what felt like a firm hand gripped him and slowed his descent. He looked at his body, seeing nothing, then looked down at the ground. He hovered there for almost a full minute before reaching out with a gloved hand to touch the rocks below him. As his finger brushed the stones, he dropped onto his back with a loud groan.

Dellis took a moment to catch his breath before he stood, quickly surveying his surroundings. He wasn't entirely sure where he was, but one thing was clear; he _wasn't_ in Adamant Fortress.

"Where are we?" a voice asked from behind him. Dellis turned and nearly jumped as he saw Stroud standing on an outcropping of rock, parallel to the ground.

"How is this possible…?” Dellis asked, peering at the Warden. Stroud looked back at him with an equal measure of surprise.

"If this is the afterlife, the Chantry owes me an apology," Hawke chimed in from above them, completely upside down on another floating hunk of stone. "This looks nothing like the Maker's bosom."

"This _can't_ be real," Dellis insisted, feeling his chest constrict.

"It's not," Hawke agreed with a nod. "We're _in_ the Fade."

"We're asleep?" Stroud asked with a frown.

"No," Dellis breathed, remembering what Erimond had said at the Tevinter ritual tower. He hadn't given it much thought at the time, but now it all made sense. "We're _in the Fade_."

"This certainly isn't how I remember the Fade," Hawke mused, a worried frown on her face. "Perhaps it's because we're here physically, instead of just dreaming."

Stroud turned his attention to Dellis. "The tales say you walked out of the Fade at Haven. Was it like this?"

"How should I know?" Dellis barked, clenching his hands as he tried to control his breathing. "I'm not exactly an authority on the subject, and besides, I don't even _remember_ _!_ "

"It's all academic at this point, anyway," Hawke shrugged. "If Erimond was summoning demons inside the fortress, we shouldn't assume we're safe here."

"The rift was near to us in our world," Stroud commented. "Would it be equally as close in the Fade?"

"Hard to say," Hawke returned with a frown. "I suppose it's worth a shot, though."

"Better than standing around here wondering about it," Dellis agreed as Stroud and Hawke both jumped down from their impossible perches. They landed with a splash in green, ankle-deep water. At least Dellis assumed it was water. Or perhaps it only appeared to be water. He squeezed his eyes shut, putting a hand to his temple. He could not even begin to comprehend where they were or what it meant for them.

The entire Fade seemed to take on a sickly tint. Tendrils of green fog wrapped themselves around Dellis's legs as he walked through what he continued to hope was water. The entire place seemed to be born of a nightmare, and Dellis found himself wishing that Solas had been thrown into the Fade with them. He, above anyone, would surely know what to do.

"Look, up there," Stroud announced, pointing up a flight of stony stairs. A figure could barely be seen in the distance as they approached. The Warden gasped when they reached the top of the steps. "Maker preserve us."

"Is that who I think it is?" Hawke asked from behind them. Dellis didn't need to be one of the faithful to recognize the clothing, at the very least.

"Divine Justinia," Dellis greeted her, unable to hide his apprehension. Hawke would likely be sure to point out the dangers of the Fade, but even as a street urchin Dellis knew that nothing could be trusted. Certainly not dead priests.

"Inquisitor," the woman replied with a polite nod. Dellis narrowed his eyes as Stroud took a step closer, studying the woman closely.

"How do you know who I am?" Dellis asked, crossing his arms. "By the time I was made Inquisitor, you were..."

"She is the not the Divine," Stroud concluded with a grim frown. "We face a spirit, or a demon."

"The Divine perished at the Conclave, didn't she?" Hawke asked.

"You think my survival impossible," the Divine remarked, "and yet here you all stand, alive in the Fade yourselves."

"How can we know this isn't a trick?" Stroud asked.

Justinia shook her head. "Proving my existence either way would require time we don't have."

"Really, how hard is it to answer one question?" Hawke asked. "I'm a human, and you are...?"

"I am here to help," the Divine answered. Though he didn't turn to face her, Dellis could almost feel Hawke's eyes roll back into her head. The sigh, at least, was loud enough to hear. Justinia's gaze settled firmly on Dellis. "You do not remember what happened at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, Inquisitor."

"How do you know that? Dellis asked.

"I know because I have examined memories like yours," she explained. "Memories stolen by the demon that serves Corypheus."

"Wonderful," Hawke sighed. "More demons."

"Don't tell me you thought we'd find fields of flowers and butterflies," Dellis returned with a less than convincing chuckle. It was clear the Divine was not speaking of something as benign as a pride demon. No, they were certain to find something far worse.

"It is the Nightmare you forget upon waking," Justinia continued. "It feeds off memories of fear and darkness, growing fat upon the terror."

"Then we fight ourselves here," Stroud realized. Justinia nodded in confirmation.

"The false Calling that terrified the Wardens into making such grave mistakes was its work," the Divine explained. Dellis could see Stroud's fists clench and his shoulders straighten. "The Nightmare serves willingly, unlike the bound demons, for Corypheus has brought much terror to this world."

Dellis's gaze dropped slightly as he thought about what she had said. It now occurred to him why the rift couldn't be sealed. It wasn't the pride demon Erimond wanted. "This Nightmare you speak of," he began. "Is that what Erimond was trying to summon?"

"Yes," she told him. Dellis looked beyond her, toward the green glow in the distance that he had not noticed until then.

"It's nearby, isn't it?"

"Yes," she repeated again.

"Well," Dellis returned with a defeated sigh, "shit."

"When you entered the Fade at Haven, the demon took a part of you," Justinia explained. "You must recover it if you are to have any chance of defeating it."

"Right, so get Squiggles' memories back and defeat a nasty demon," Hawke confirmed.

Dellis raised an eyebrow. "Don't you go calling me that, now."

"Go, face your fear," Justinia ordered. "Only by overcoming it can you defeat the Nightmare."

"That's ominous," Hawke murmured as Dellis lead the two away from the Divine.

"I don't like this," Stroud hissed as the greenish-colored fog thickened. "I don't like this at all."

"Keep it together, friend," Hawke said, putting a hand on his shoulder as they walked through the rocky landscape of the Fade. Dellis swallowed hard as his eyes wandered in front of him. The ground was littered with candles, books, and a variety of other items that did not belong. He jumped slightly as a wall beside him seemed to shimmer and fade, revealing a pathway.

"Well, that's certainly creepy," he commented, waving his companions toward the newly-opened passage.

"It's leading us," Stroud warned him.

"It's not as if we have much choice," Hawke countered, eliciting a shrug from the Warden. The trio continued walking, climbing down a rocky flight of stairs toward lower ground. All three of them froze as a deep, rumbling voice echoed through the stone corridors.

"Ah, we have a visitor," the voice boomed. Despite their searching, they could find no source. "Some foolish little boy comes to steal the fear I kindly lifted from his shoulders."

"It's the Nightmare," Stroud growled, looking up toward the shifting skies.

"You should have left me and your fear when it lay," the Nightmare bellowed. " _Forgotten_."

"Ignore it, Dellis," Hawke urged as she pushed him forward. He breathed in deeply as he continued down the steps toward a large stone clearing. As they moved toward the center of the clearing, several figures seemed to materialize from the fog.

"No, that's impossible," Stroud gasped from behind him. Dellis turned to look over his shoulder, startled to see a horrified look on the Warden's face. He turned back toward the figures. Now that he looked again, it was easy to see the resemblance between his Warden companion and the men before him.

"Jean-Marc," one of the men greeted him.

"Father," Stroud whispered, taking a step forward.

"How could you join the Wardens?" the other man asked. "You were a chevalier. You should have brought our murderers to _justice_."

"No, brother," Stroud said, shaking his head. "Revenge serves no one. With the Wardens, I can help _all_ the people of Thedas."

"You failed me, Son," Stroud's father spat. Even Dellis took a step back as the figures seemed to begin to decay, their skin sagging under its own weight as they shambled forward. "We will be avenged."

"No, I made the right choice!" Stroud shouted desperately. He stood his ground, wavering slightly as the corpses finally dropped to the ground, completely desiccated. Stroud's ragged breathing could be heard as he stared at the bodies before him, looking as though he might be ill.

"They aren't real, Stroud," Hawke assured him. He stood, frozen, a moment longer before turning to Dellis.

"The Nightmare will try to break us," the Warden told them. "We must resist."

As the group continued through the Fade, the scenery continued to morph and change. Dellis noted a marked increase in what appeared to be red lyrium. He wasn't sure if it was real - if the word actually held any meaning there - or if it was simply a reflection of the fears they held within themselves. He'd already jumped at several spiders, much to Hawke's amusement.

"Of everything we've seen," she began with a smirk, "you're afraid of _spiders_ _?_ "

"I'm allowed one ridiculous thing at least," he complained, keeping his eyes open for any more of the arachnids.

"I don't like all this red lyrium," Hawke admitted after a pause, eyeing the crimson crystals as they walked past.

"Do not think about it, Hawke," Stroud suggested. "The more you fear it, the more the demon feeds."

"Right, just forget how it turned Knight-Commander Meredith into a red lollipop," Hawke agreed sarcastically. "I'll work on that."

As they rounded the corner, Dellis could feel a chill pass through him. He wondered if perhaps it was his turn to face the demon's wrath.

"Try to hide them, if you wish," the demon's voice echoed overhead, "but I can taste your fears. Especially yours, Champion of Kirkwall."

"Hawke," Dellis warned, too late. Her eyes were wide and firmly locked on a figure behind him. Dellis turned to follow her gaze. Though it had been well over ten years since he had last seen her, Dellis could recognize Leandra. Or rather, what had once been Leandra.

"Maker, no," Hawke gasped. Dellis could feel his stomach tie into knots as he looked upon the woman beyond them. He had heard rumors of the death of Hawke's mother, but there had been no details. Now, as stared at her, he could see stitch marks all over Leandra's body. Her neck, her shoulders, her wrists. Her face was ashen and she was dressed in what appeared to be a wedding gown, complete with veil.

 _What happened to her...?_ Dellis wondered, turning to look at Hawke. She seemed terrified, her breaths rapid and uneven, as her eyes remained locked on Leandra and the man who had appeared beside her.

"Quentin," Hawke snarled, her voice dripping with equal measures of rage and fear.

"Aren't you going to say hello to your mother?" Quentin asked from beside Leandra. Dellis could see Hawke's muscles tense as she slowly reached behind her for her staff. "Now, now," the man purred. "There are consequences for interference, Champion."

The man snapped his fingers once. Leandra's body seemed to come apart at the seams. As her body crumpled, Dellis leapt forward to catch Hawke before she could run past him. She screamed as her mother's head rolled toward them, eyes vacant and empty while the rest of her body lay in pieces.

In a fit of rage, Hawke's body exploded with magic. The shockwave was large enough to hurl both Dellis and Stroud into the rocky walls. With tears streaming down her cheeks, Hawke shot after spell at Quentin, who simply laughed. Finally, she threw her staff to the ground and gritted her teeth.

"I will end you!" Hawke shouted angrily, pulling a knife from her belt.

"Marian, no!" Dellis shouted, pushing himself to his feet and darting toward her. He stopped several meters away as she held the knife over her arm. "You've said it yourself," Dellis urged her. "It's _never_ worth the cost."

Hawke looked up at him, her chest heaving as she struggled for breath. Dellis stared back at her with pleading eyes, shaking his head as her hand wavered. After a moment of hesitation, she lowered the knife. Quentin and Leandra's body evaporated into the fog.

"I thought I was afraid of blood magic," Hawke whispered, bowing her head. "But I was afraid of _using_ it."

Dellis pulled her into a tight hug, letting Hawke bury her face in his shoulder. She had conquered her fear, but only just barely. It didn't take a scholar for Dellis to know what was in store for him.

"We should keep moving," Stroud suggested after a short time. Dellis nodded his head, silently thanking the Warden for his patience.

"I'll be fine," Hawke assured them. She reached down to pick up her staff. "I'll be more than thrilled to never come _here_ again, waking or otherwise."

"Let's just focus on getting _out_ first," Dellis suggested. "Then we can worry about not coming _back_."

Hawke lead them down a tall flight of stairs that opened into a large ravine. They were once again greeted with the sickly colored water, and Dellis cringed as he felt it seep into his boots. Even in the Fade he couldn't avoid wet feet.

As he looked up from the murky pools below him, he could see a very familiar figure. It was finally his turn, he realized.

"Kawyn?" he whispered, moving to follow as the figure ran off.

"Dellis, wait!" Hawke called after him.

"It's alright," Dellis assured her. "Whatever the Nightmare has in store for me, we'll defeat it together."

Stroud and Hawke followed as Dellis chased the figure across the pools of water. Finally, Dellis lost track of her, looking around desperately for any sign of the apparition.

"She must have led us here for a reason," Stroud suggested, pointing behind them. Dellis turned to see what appeared to be a small graveyard. He stepped through the gate to the graveyard and looked down at the first tombstone. "What does it say?"

"It's Varric's tombstone," Dellis said, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Became his parents...?"

"What?" Hawke asked, stepping up behind him and looking over his shoulder.

"Look, behind his is Cassandra's," Dellis continued, stepping toward the next tombstone. "Helplessness."

"This one over here is your apostate, Solas," Stroud told them. "It says dying alone."

"It's their fears," Dellis realized. He turned his attention toward the tombstone in the center of the small graveyard. Taking a deep breath, he approached it and read the name. He was entirely unsurprised to find it was his own. As he stood, staring at the marble headstone, a word etched itself into the stone. "Betrayer."

"You?" Hawke asked with a frown.

"He killed me."

All three of them turned immediately toward the voice. Behind them stood a young elven woman, no more than twenty years old. The markings on her face indicated she was Dalish, and though Hawke and Stroud both seemed surprised to see an elf in the Fade, Dellis was significantly less startled. "Kawyn."

"Murderer," the elf snarled. "Your actions lead to my death."

"They didn't," Dellis insisted firmly. He took a deep a breath as several more Dalish appeared from within the fog. He clenched his jaw as the Dalish warriors approached the girl, blades drawn.

"You tainted me, _shem_ ," Kawyn spat, "and my clan ended my life for it."

Dellis exhaled sharply as the warriors advanced, each stabbing toward the girl in turn. He reminded himself over and over that it was the Fade, that none of it was real. As her body slumped to the water below, Dellis breathed in slowly.

"Dellis," Hawke began.

"This is the Fade," he said, more for his benefit than hers. "Nothing here is real."

"She was the one from Lothering, wasn't she?"

Dellis nodded. "But the Dalish wouldn't kill one of their own," he told her. "Not for this, anyway." He smiled as the elves dissipated into the mist.

"She also wouldn't have called you a shem," Hawke told him with a smirk.

"Let's get out of here," Dellis suggested. He could see the green glow growing bright as they pressed on, finally revealing the familiar sight of a rift. He smiled to himself and breathed a sigh of relief. They had finally found their target. As the three moved toward what promised to be the last stretch before the rift, Dellis's heart sank as he could finally make out the form of a massive demon just ahead of them, completely blocking their path to the rift.

"I've never seen a demon like that before," Hawke told him.

"That's comforting," Dellis grumbled.

"That must be the Nightmare," Stroud told them. "I do not think the three of us can defeat it."

"You cannot."

Dellis pulled out his bow as a much smaller demon materialized before them. To say that it was smaller than the Nightmare was irrelevant. The creature stood nearly twice the height of even the Iron Bull, with six leg-like appendages sprouting from its back. Dellis shivered as he realized it looked a bit spider-like.

"Kill it!" Stroud shouted, pulling out his weapon and charging in first. Hawke wasted no time in putting up a barrier while Dellis reached for his bow. Each time Stroud swung at the demon, it would vanish, only to appear meters away, completely unharmed. Even Dellis's arrows seemed to do nothing to phase it.

"Wait," Dellis muttered to himself as the demon tossed Stroud aside like a ragdoll. "Why do we fight demons?"

"Because they're trying to kill us," Hawke returned, looking at him as if he'd lost his mind.

"We fight them because we're _afraid_ ," Dellis countered, dropping his bow and moving forward.

"Andraste's flaming ass, Dellis. What are you doing?" Hawke cried, looking on as he stood defenseless before the demon.

The creature stopped only feet away from Dellis, its six pointed appendages twitching as he stared it down, unafraid. Dellis had expected the demon to simply vanish, like the other apparitions they had seen, but instead, it seemed to explode in a flash of green light. He felt a searing pain shoot through his body as images flashed before his eyes in a jumble he could barely understand.

"Dellis!" Hawke shouted, rushing toward him and putting a hand on his back. It took him a moment to realize he had fallen to his hands and knees. He felt as if he might be sick. "Are you alright?"

"M-my memory," he stuttered, trying to remember to breathe. "My memory... it's back."

"You look ill," Stroud commented as he walked toward them, having reclaimed his weapons.

"It's a lot to sort through all at once," Dellis lied, the images still flickering through his mind. When his vision finally focused, he was unsurprised to see Divine Justinia suddenly behind them. She looked at him with soft eyes, knowing full well that he knew the truth. "They thought it was Andraste sending me from the Fade, but it was you." Dellis paused for a moment. "Not you, because Divine Justinia is dead."

"So, this creature is simply a spirit," Stroud confirmed.

"Big surprise there," Hawke said, rolling her eyes.

"I am sorry if I disappoint you," Justinia apologized. Her skin suddenly began to glow a bright, fiery orange. Her figure transformed into light and floated into the air above them.

"We need to get out of here," Dellis told her without hesitation. "Can you help us?"

"The Nightmare protects itself with its kin," the spirit explained. "I can distract them for a time, but then it is up to you."

The three followed the spirit to the edge of the Nightmare's lair. Now that he could get a good look at it, Dellis couldn't help but feel the fear rise within him. He knew it was foolish, but the demon's similarity to a giant castle-sized spider left him a bit uneasy.

The spirit turned to Dellis. "If you would," she pleaded, "Please tell Leliana, 'I'm sorry. I failed you too.'"

Before he could react, the spirit jetted off toward the Nightmare's minions. ­It seemed to have little effect on the Nightmare, however, which still left them with a very large problem.

"There's no way we can get past that thing," Dellis breathed.

"Yes, we can," Hawke told him. Dellis turned to look at her and immediately knew what she planned.

"No, Hawke," he told her firmly.

"Corypheus is my responsibility," Hawke argued. "I set him loose and Maker be damned if I'll let you die to him because of my ignorance."

"No, Hawke," Stroud agreed. "The Wardens caused this. A Warden should end it."

"You need to help yo­­­­­ur people rebuild," Hawke insisted. "That's _your_ job."

After a moment, they both looked to Dellis. His eyes darted back and forth between the two of them. "You can't ask me to make this decision."

"Someone has to," Stroud reminded him.

Dellis looked at the Warden. With Clarel dead, he knew as well as his companions that every Warden of any rank would be needed to rebuild their order, but with Loghain back at Adamant, he knew Stroud was not their final chance. As he looked at Hawke, he couldn't help but think of Bethany. He knew making the decision based on personal feelings was wrong, but...

"Stroud, can you distract that demon?"

"Dellis, don't throw his life away!" Hawke growled.

"Would you rather I throw _your_ life away?" Dellis shouted back. "You have a sister out there who will have no one left if I sacrifice you here."

"He's right, Marian," Stroud said, putting his hand on her shoulder. "Take this fight to Corypheus, and win it. And when you've saved the world, go back to your sister and _live_."

Hawke hesitated just long enough. Without further prompting, Stroud charged at the demon's legs, hacking and slashing as quickly as he could. Dellis grabbed Hawke by the sleeve and hauled her toward the rift, throwing her through it without so much as a look back.

The two tumbled to the cobblestones before them as they exited the rift. Dellis pushed himself to his feet and reached out his palm, letting the light of the anchor glow brightly before snapping it into a fist. The rift exploded, pulling all the remaining demons back to the Fade with it.

"Dellis?" Cassandra gasped as everyone's eyes fell on the new arrivals.

He barely had time to react when he felt a strong pair of arms wrap around his chest. Sera clung to him tightly, and though he would never mention it to anyone, he was certain he heard sniffling.

"Stupid fucking arse," she choked into his jacket.

"Well, would you look at that," Dorian said with a grin. "The Warden mages seem to have come to their senses."

"Whatever we did in there must have cut off the Nightmare's connection outside the Fade," Hawke said with a sigh of relief. "Probably closing the rift."

"Well done, Inquisitor," Loghain commented as Dellis tried to pry Sera loose. "Where's Stroud?"

"He sacrificed himself so we could escape," Dellis replied softly. "He was a damn hero."

"That's... unfortunate." Loghain sighed, glancing at the remaining Warden forces. Judging from the battlefield, Dellis assumed that once he and the others had disappeared into the Fade, Loghain had rallied the remaining Wardens to work _with_ the Inquisition to fight the demons that continued to pour from the rift.

"He was a good man," Dellis agreed.

"What will you do with us, Inquisitor?" Loghain asked. "I imagine Clarel may have not have particularly inspired confidence."

"Take the rest of your Wardens and return to Weisshaupt," Dellis ordered. "We can't be sure Corypheus won't be able to control them again."

"Understood," Loghain replied with a curt nod. "Oh, and Inquisitor?"

"Yes?"

"You should be damn proud of what you've accomplished here," Loghain told him with a slight smile. "You just saved the Grey Wardens."

"Yeah," Dellis replied with a half-hearted smile. "I'm a god damned hero."


	17. The Aftermath

Hawke wandered the keep, her mind filled with a thousand competing thoughts. She had just come from speaking with the Inquisition's advisors about their time in the Fade. It immediately struck her as odd that they had called _her_ instead of Dellis. Cullen had claimed that they could not find the Inquisitor.

Dellis hadn't been hard to find at all, so Hawke assumed the advisors were showing him the courtesy of giving him his space. He stood atop the newly remodeled mage tower, leaning over the parapets and looking out into the mountains. It was clear even from his posture that he was out of sorts.

"You're a hard man to find," she said as she approached him. She could hear him sigh, though he said nothing and made no move to greet her. "I just spoke to your advisors about our excursion into the Fade. They were wondering where you'd run off to."

"Sorry you got stuck with that," Dellis replied, shifting his weight as he leaned farther over the parapet.

"What happened to you?" Hawke asked as she moved forward to stand next to him. "You seemed fine until-"

"You didn't see what I saw," he interrupted, finally turning his head to look at her. "You don't know what I did."

"You said it yourself," Hawke replied. "What happened in Lothering wasn't your fault."

"It's not about Lothering," Dellis sighed, looking back out at the mountains. "No one ever seemed to question why I was at the Conclave."

Hawke turned around, leaning her back against the stone wall. "So tell me," she urged. "What's bothering you?"

Dellis laughed lightly. "I'm the one that should be helping you," he told her. "What you saw... I can't even imagine."

Hawke frowned as her mind drifted back to the Fade. The visions she had seen of her mother were sure to haunt her, but if it hadn't been for Dellis, she would surely have resorted to blood magic to destroy Quentin's apparition. "You kept me honest in there," Hawke told him. "Now don't change the subject."

"I'm exactly what the headstone said I am," he explained. "I'm a betrayer."

"Somehow, I think that's a stretch of the truth," Hawke chuckled. Her smile faded when Dellis's shoulders slumped even further. "Come on, Trevelyan. It can't possibly be that bad."

"You'd be surprised," he said with a huff. Hawke took a step back as Dellis turned to face her. "Thanks for trying, Hawke, but I just need some time to myself."

Hawke watched as Dellis turned and walked away. As he disappeared down the ladder back into tower, Hawke wondered just what he could have seen in his memories that could so utterly crush him.

* * *

Cassandra sat in the loft of the forge, sipping a mug of tea as she read. It had been two days since their return from Adamant Fortress and neither she nor seemingly anyone else had seen much of the Inquisitor. Something had clearly happened in the Fade, but nothing in Hawke's report suggested any problems, unless he was upset about sacrificing the Grey Warden.

It took her a moment to realize she had read the same paragraph three times. With a huff, Cassandra set the book down and took a long sip from her mug. As she stood, she was surprised to hear footsteps ascending the stairs. She was even more surprised to find that they belonged to Dellis.

Dellis stood at the top of the stairs for a long moment as Cassandra looked at him. He seemed tired and worn, as if he had not slept. He did take the opportunity to run a hand through his unusually disheveled hair.

"I am surprised to see you," she said, crossing her arms as he slowly stepped closer. "I read the report Hawke gave regarding the Fade."

"So you know what happened," he replied, stopping and rubbing the back of his neck.

"No one would judge your decision to save Hawke," Cassandra assured him. "As Hawke told it, she volunteered, but even Stroud agreed with your decision."

Dellis sighed, dropping his hand back down to his side. "I think it might have been easier if I didn't have a personal connection to Hawke," he admitted. "But what's done is done."

Cassandra studied his face closely as they stood, looking at each other in silence. "If Stroud is not what bothers you, then why have you hidden from us since returning to Skyhold?"

"Hawke mentioned I got my memories back, I assume?"

"It was in the report," Cassandra confirmed, her brow furrowing.

"You never pressed me on why I was there," Dellis mumbled.

"Where?" she asked with a frown.

"At the Conclave," Dellis clarified. "You never asked again after we closed the rift at the Temple of Sacred Ashes."

"It became irrelevant," Cassandra explained. "You are the Herald of Andraste and we needed the anchor to seal the Breach."

"Yeah, you needed to anchor," Dellis repeated with a sound that was half a laugh and half a sigh.

"We would not have made it this far without you," she told him, "regardless of the mark."

"I was there to kill her," Dellis blurted. His jaw was set and clenched tightly as Cassandra stared at him.

"What?" she asked, feeling a knot twist in her stomach. It didn't take long for the knot to begin to bubble into anger.

"I was at the Conclave because I was hired to assassinate Divine Justinia."

As she heard the words, Cassandra felt the anger erupt. Without her consent, she felt her body move forward. She lashed out angrily at Dellis, her fist connecting with his jaw in a blow so hard he had to grab on to the support beam next to the railing to keep from falling to the floor. She seethed as he looked at her with defeated eyes.

"Get out," Cassandra hissed, calling on every last shred of her willpower to keep from striking him again. She didn't realize she was holding her breath until he disappeared down the stairs. She let it out with a great huff, her cheek twitching as the anger and feelings of betrayal washed over her.

Cassandra stood there, motionless and deep in thought, for what seemed like an age. Finally, she found the will to move her feet. They took her down the stairs and marched all the way across the courtyard. Soon she found herself climbing the tower toward the rookery.

Leliana noticed her presence - and her countenance -  before Cassandra could speak. She immediately stopped what she was doing and waved her agents away. The few men and women in the rookery quickly took refuge on the other side as Cassandra stormed toward the spymaster.

"He was an _assassin_ ," Cassandra all but shouted. Leliana recoiled slightly at the accusation, but quickly recovered.

"I know," Leliana told her. Cassandra blinked twice.

"You know?" Cassandra repeated, prompting an affirmative nod. "You _knew_ and didn't tell me?"

"I haven't known for long," Leliana assured her, her hands held palm forward in front of her to prevent her friend from any potentially rash actions. "I discovered the truth shortly before we arrived in Skyhold, but it was clear he didn't remember any of it."

"He was sent to _kill_ Most Holy, Leliana," Cassandra reminded her angrily. "He is a traitor to the Chantry."

"But he did _not_ kill her," Leliana returned. Cassandra stirred to reply, but paused. "Did you think to ask him what _actually_ happened in the Temple of Sacred Ashes?"

"I... no," she admitted with a frown.

"You have known Dellis for months," Leliana told her. "Do you think him a different man, just because you know why he was at the Conclave?"

Cassandra snorted in frustration, turning away from Leliana and placing her hands on her hips. She knew the spymaster's point was a good one, but a larger part of her than she was willing to admit couldn't help but worry he had been lying to them the whole time.

"Do you think I would have let Dellis become Inquisitor if I thought he would betray us?" Leliana continued.

"He already did," Cassandra barked, looking over her shoulder with a scowl on her face.

"You won't even give him a chance?" Leliana asked with a sad look on her face. "The one who repents, who has faith, unshaken by the darkness of the world, she shall know true peace."

"Transfigurations," Cassandra snorted, her tone revealing slight amusement. After a moment of silence, she sighed softly. "So you believe it as simple as having faith?"

"The Maker works in ways we cannot comprehend," Leliana reminded her. "It may be that his contract to kill her was set in motion so that he would be in the right place at the right time."

"When did you become so optimistic?" Cassandra asked with a roll of her eyes.

"One of us has to be," Leliana replied with a smirk. Her smile abruptly faded. "If he told you... What did you do to him?"

Cassandra cleared her throat, crossing her arms and shifting her weight uncomfortably. "I... may have struck him."

"Again?" Leliana asked with a chiding tone. "Cassandra..."

"It was reflex," Cassandra said in her own defense.

"We need to work on your _reflexes_ if they consist solely of punching people," Leliana suggested with a frown. "Josephine will be beside herself when she sees him."

The Seeker sighed again. "I do not know if I can simply let this go."

"I'm not asking you to, Cassandra," Leliana told her. "I'm asking you to let him defend himself _before_ you hit him next time."

Cassandra smiled meekly. "I will think on your words, Leliana. Thank you, friend."

"You're welcome, Cassandra," the spymaster replied. "Now if you don't mind, you've terrified my agents half to death."

There was a shuffle from the other side of the rookery as one of the agents tried to hide. "Perhaps a bit of fear would do them good."

"I'll keep that in mind," Leliana said with a smile. Cassandra nodded before turning to head down the stairs, quickly disappearing from sight.

* * *

The sun was beginning to set as Dellis laid in the loft in the barn. The stable hand, a young boy named Desmond, was nowhere to be found. Dellis had spoken to him a few times, much to the boy's delight, and he knew at this time of day he was probably busy eating supper.

Dellis tossed a ball into the air above him, catching it in his hand as it fell. He couldn't make sense of the memories the Nightmare had returned to him. He had known that weeks had been missing, but had never really considered what that might mean. He had certainly never thought he would get those memories back, and now that he had, he wished the Nightmare had kept them.

"He's desperate, in danger of dying. Stay and sacrifice, or flee and forsake his faith? A choice. No choice."

Cole stood at the top of the stairs. Dellis sighed loudly. It was silly of him not to realize that Cole would be able to sense his conflict, and thus would know everything. He turned his head as Cole approached, his hat covering his face as usual. The boy's expression was no different than on any other day, but his posture seemed looser.

"I'm fine, Cole," Dellis insisted, tossing the ball into the air again. "I just need some time to sort things out."

"You left to save yourself," Cole told him. "You think you were wrong."

"I _was_ wrong," Dellis agreed with a loud sigh. He sat up, holding the ball in his hand, and ran a hand through his tousled hair. "Betraying your faith to save your life isn't a choice you make."

"You would rather have died to save a woman who died to save you."

Dellis grunted slightly at Cole's words. He had been thinking about the Temple and the Divine almost nonstop since their return to Skyhold, telling himself over and over in his head that he was a traitor to the Chantry and to the Inquisition, but here Cole was reminding him that despite everything, Justinia had given up her life so that he could live.

"You've seen my memories?" Dellis asked after a moment.

"Crawling up the cliff, clawing at you as you climb. 'The demons,' she shouts. You run to safety, but she stays, screams as they swarm over her. 'Go,' she orders as they take her."

"She saved me," Dellis whispered to himself under his breath. "You think she _chose_ me to live instead of her on purpose, don't you?"

"You can seal the rifts," Cole said, cocking his head slightly.

"She didn't know that," Dellis returned with a frown.

"How do you know?"

Dellis paused. "There's no way she could have... could she?"

"’Your hand, it glows,’" Cole continued. "’The orb must have touched you, must have blessed you.’"

"That was what she said to me," Dellis said, his voice soft.

"She thought you were touched by the Maker," Cole told him. "She thought you would save them."

"I'm not sure if I can," Dellis admitted with a sigh.

"You want to," Cole said. "You want to help people, like me."

Dellis looked the boy in the eyes, just visible beneath the brim of his hat. He had never seen Cole smile, but his eyes were soft and seemed brighter than usual. Perhaps if a spirit _and_ the Divine saw something good in him, he should trust himself for once.

"You wouldn't have killed her," Cole stated.

Dellis chuckled lightly. "No, I couldn't."

"Then you didn't let anyone down," Cole reasoned. "You helped people with your mark and didn't murder anyone."

"I let down Cassandra," Dellis sighed. "Cole, don't do that thing you do where I'll forget this. I want to remember."

"I won't," Cole nodded. Dellis watched him leave before tossing the ball back up into the air.

* * *

"Hawke, there you are."

The Champion turned her head to see Varric approaching. She sighed softly. She'd been avoiding him, which he was sure to have noticed, and now she was due for an awkward conversation. She would have to find a better hiding spot for next time.

"Sorry, I've had a lot on my mind," Hawke apologized. She had holed up in the part of the keep that had served as a makeshift Chantry, a place where she assumed few people would think to look for her. Varric must have resorted to thinking well outside the box.

"I heard Squiggles went missing," he explained, taking a seat on a bench across from her, "and imagine my surprise when I went looking for you and _you_ were missing too." He chuckled to himself. "I was worried you two had run off together."

Hawke couldn't help but laugh. "Imagine the scolding I would get from Isabela."

"That might be worth seeing," Varric replied with a grin. "But really, Hawke, what happened out there?"

"Bad things," she told him, hanging her head slightly. "Don't get me wrong. I've been to the Fade. It kind of comes with being a mage, but I've never _been_ to the Fade."

"Nobody has," Varric reminded her. "Not in over a thousand years, and the last time someone _did **,**_ it didn't turn out too well for the rest of us."

"Don't remind me," Hawke sighed. "Just feel lucky you can't go to the Fade, even in sleep. Dreams aren't worth it."

"Come on, Hawke, you can't mean that," Varric told her with a frown. "What happened in there that has you so rattled?"

"You mean other than having someone die for the mess _I_ created?" she scoffed.

"You can't blame yourself for Corypheus any more than I should blame myself," he chided. "And I heard about Stroud."

"It should have been me," Hawke whispered.

"You'd make me write that letter?" Varric asked, crossing his arms. "Dear Sunshine, your stupid sister decided to be a big damn hero and got eaten by a giant demon spider-crab. Sincerely, Varric."

Hawke felt a smile tug at the corner of her mouth. "Varric, what I would do without you?"

"You'd be a hell of a lot less famous," he replied with a grin. "Can you believe that apparently the Seeker brought me to Haven to autograph the Divine's copy of Hard in Hightown? Vivienne swears she admitted it."

"It is one of your better stories," Hawke chuckled. "Better than Swords & Shields, anyway. Sorry, friend, but I couldn't get through that one."

"That reminds me that I need to get to work on finishing that," Varric muttered to himself.

"You're going to finish it?" Hawke asked, her eyes lighting up. "You're joking."

"As a matter of fact, I'm finishing it for Cassandra," Varric explained, a cockeyed smile spread across his face. "Apparently, she's a fan."

"Didn't she try to kill you?" Hawke asked. "Multiple times, as I recall."

"It's a favor for the Inquisitor," Varric returned. "He wants to get on her good side, for some reason."

"Maybe so she doesn't try to hit him," Hawke suggested with a smirk.

"Ha ha, funny," Varric glowered.

"I'm worried about Dellis," Hawke admitted after a moment. "He seemed fine in the Fade until he got his memory back from the Nightmare, and then he completely shut down."

"Maybe he remembered that he was secretly a circus clown," Varric suggested. He seemed to shrink back at the serious look Hawke gave him. "Okay, okay. You want me to talk to him?"

"I don't know," Hawke sighed. "I’m the one that had it rough in the Fa-"

Hawke stopped mid-sentence as she realized what she was saying. Varric, of course, hadn't missed a beat and was looking at her expectantly. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Uh, well," Hawke faltered, playing with the end of her hair anxiously. "The Nightmare tried to break us with our greatest fears."

Varric was silent for a moment. "Don't say it, Chuckles."

"I saw my mother," Hawke confirmed with a heavy sigh. "And Quentin."

"That bastard," Varric hissed. "But he's dead."

"I... didn't exactly handle it well," Hawke told him. "I almost... well, let's just say Dellis kept me from making a huge mistake."

"Hey, that'd be hard for anybody," Varric assured her. "I was there the first time. It was a nightmare all on its own."

"Don't worry about me," she told him with a smile. "I just hope he works through whatever nightmare _he's_ got going on in his head. The world needs him."

Varric smirked and crossed his arms. "And to think, you didn't even like him.".

Hawke chuckled. "Actually, as a girl I had quite the crush on poor Dellis," she conceded.

"So, you were jealous?" Varric beamed. "I feel like I should be taking notes."

"Don't you dare," Hawke threatened, her mouth curved into a half smile. "If I read about this in one your serials, by Andraste's flaming ass, Varric, I swear I will turn you into a toad."

Varric put his hands up defensively, still smiling. "You have my word, Hawke."

"Good," she said, satisfied. "Now if you don't mind, I'm going to pray to the Maker that you stay honest."

Hawke smiled as she heard Varric chuckling on his way out.


	18. Mending Fences

Dellis walked slowly through the throne room, avoiding the sideways glances from the servants and the visiting dignitaries. The left side of his face was still black and blue, and though he knew he deserved it, he also knew explaining it was a challenge he wasn't looking forward to. He ignored the stares and pushed open the heavy wooden door to Josephine's office, surprised to find that he was the last one to arrive.

"You weren't kidding," Cullen said to Josephine with a chuckle as Dellis approached them. "Remind me not to get on Cassandra's bad side."

"I'm thankful the Inquisitor wasn't needed for any diplomatic ventures," Josephine agreed. "I'm not quite sure how I would have explained that."

"It's nothing," Dellis grumbled with a wave of his hand. "What did you need me for?"

"We must discuss the matter of Orlais," Leliana told him. "Specifically, your claim that in the future you saw in Redcliffe, Empress Celene was assassinated."

Dellis hesitated momentarily at the mention of Redcliffe. "Why now?"

"The political situation in Orlais is tenuous, at best," Josephine explained. "You may have heard that a civil war rages between Empress Celene and her cousin, Duke Gaspard de Chalons."

"I've heard whispers," Dellis confirmed with a nod.

"Celene is holding peace talks under the auspices of a Grand Masquerade," Josephine continued. "Every power in Orlais will be there."

"Including the Inquisition," Cullen added. He sounded less than enthused.

"The dissent between Celene and Gaspard will complicate matters," Josephine added.

"Everything in the empire complicates matters," Cullen laughed. "It's the Orlesian national pastime."

"Turn your nose up at the Grand Game if you like, Commander," Leliana spat, "but we play for the highest stakes, and to the death."

"The court's disapproval can be as great a threat as the Venatori," Josephine told them. "We must be vigilant, to avert disaster."

"A Grand Masquerade would be the perfect place for an assassin to hide," Leliana added. "This is why the Inquisition must be present."

"So, we'll send some of Leliana's agents to infiltrate," Dellis shrugged.

"Ah, not exactly," Josephine returned with a sheepish smile. "The Inquisition has been personally invited by the Empress herself."

Dellis blinked at her. He knew exactly what she was about to say, but hoped against hope he was wrong. "What exactly are you suggesting, Josie?" he asked. "You can't really expect _me_ to go to an Orlesian ball."

"Why do you think Josie has been teaching you proper etiquette?" Leliana asked with a laugh.

"I thought that was just so I didn't embarrass us all!" Dellis groaned, placing his hands on his hips. "No, no no. You can _not_ have me go to a Grand Masquerade."

"You'll be fine, Inquisitor," Cullen assured him.

"I'm a commoner," Dellis reminded him. "A commoner who doesn't know what fork to use, how to address nobility, or how to dance."

"We can take care of all of those things," Josephine assured him. "In fact, according to Vivienne, you should be a natural at dancing."

"According to- what?"

"She speaks highly of your mobility in combat," Leliana explained. "And she's _very_ excited to help with your wardrobe."

"You're enjoying this," Dellis accused. Leliana's smile grew wider. "You don't expect me to go alone, do you?"

"Of course not," Josephine told him. "The three of us will go with you."

"We will?" Cullen asked, suddenly looking concerned.

"Yes, Commander, you're going too," Leliana told him. Cullen rolled his eyes with a disgusted sigh.

"Dorian and Cassandra will also join you, since they are both part of the nobility themselves and their presence will not be questioned," Josephine added. "And of course Vivienne will be there well. The ball is not for several months, so we will have plenty of time to prepare you."

"Splendid," Dellis sighed. "I wonder if I'll recognize myself once you all are through with me."

"Might I speak privately with you for a moment?" Leliana asked as the meeting ended. Dellis sighed but agreed, motioning toward the relative privacy of the war room.

"You've spoken to Cassandra, haven't you?" Dellis asked as Leliana closed the door.

"Yes," she confirmed, "though I already knew."

"You already knew?" he asked in surprise. "How did you find out?"

"Your employers were less discreet than they thought," Leliana explained with a smile. "They believed that by hiring someone like you rather than an Antivan Crow, for example, that your deeds would not be able to be traced back to them."

Dellis frowned. "But they were all killed at the Conclave," he told her. "How did you manage to find out _anything_ about them?"

"Not all of them," Leliana replied. "My agents located one of the conspirators within Fiona's group of mages."

"Maker," Dellis breathed, feeling a knot in the bit of his stomach. "Who knows?"

"The three of us," Leliana told him. "And Cassandra, since you told her."

"How can you be sure the mage didn't tell anyone else?"

"We can't," Leliana admitted, "however Josie is _incredibly_ good at what she does. You have nothing to worry about."

Dellis sighed. "So, you've really known since Redcliffe?"

"I was concerned that you were hiding it until we spoke outside Haven," she explained. "There, it became clear that your pain was real, so I believed that you truly did not remember."

"Do you trust me?" Dellis asked. Leliana nodded. "Do you think Cassandra will ever trust me again?"

"Give her some time," Leliana suggested after a moment. "As I said in Haven, Cassandra is complicated."

"I've noticed that," he chuckled. "I also noticed you didn't answer my question."

"She hasn't stopped trusting you," Leliana clarified. "It's just going to take her some time to realize that."

Dellis took a moment to consider her words. Though his face suggested otherwise, he could be persuaded that her actions were reflexive. He was sure it would be best to give her space, though, unless he wanted a matching bruise on the other side of his head. "Thank you, Leliana," Dellis said with a humble smile.

"I just wanted you to know that we are all still behind you," she explained. "You do not need to feel as though you are set apart."

"I'll try to sort my head out," Dellis promised with a smile. He bowed, not quite the perfect kind that Josephine would have wanted, but Leliana seemed pleased nonetheless. He was the first to exit, making a hasty escape toward the main hall. As he burst from Josie's office, he nearly ran headlong into Hawke.

"Slow down, there, killer," she laughed as he ground to a halt.

"Marian," Dellis said in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

Hawke frowned. "Well, I was just coming from speaking with that charming mage of yours."

"Which one?" Dellis asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Which one?" Hawke chuckled. "How many of are actually _charming_ _?_ "

"Other than you?"

"Flatterer," Hawke accused with a roll of her eyes. "The Tevinter one. Dorian."

"I meant what are you doing in Skyhold," Dellis clarified. "I thought you'd left."

"I was helping Varric with something," she explained, motioning for him to follow her. He fell into step beside her, his hands clasped behind his back.

"I suppose I should have noticed Varric was gone too, huh?" Dellis asked with a smirk. "I've been a little... self-involved, I suppose."

"I hadn't noticed," Hawke returned with a tone so sarcastic that Dellis almost cringed.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, rubbing the back of his neck. "So, if you're back...?"

"I'm staying," Hawke told him with a shake of her head. "Unless you'd like me to leave, of course."

"No, why would I?" Dellis asked. They began to walk down the steps from the keep toward the main courtyard. "You're an asset to the Inquisition. I'd be a fool to ask you to leave."

"Even if I told you I had a letter from Bethany?" Hawke asked with a grin as they reached the bottom of the stairs. "She asked about you."

"Me?" Dellis asked as he stopped dead in his tracks. "Why would she ask about me?"

"I may have written her and told her you were the inquisitor," Hawke replied with an innocent smile.

"Oh, Maker..."

"Don't worry, Trevelyan," she grinned. "She's not angry with you anymore."

"Oh goodie," Dellis sighed. "Next thing I know she'll be visiting."

"You needn't worry about _that_ ," Hawke assured him. "I forbade her from coming here."

Dellis raised an eyebrow. "You know that's just going to encourage her _to_ come."

"I said she wasn't angry at you," Hawke chuckled. "That doesn't mean she's eager to see you."

"Ouch, my pride," Dellis returned with a smirk. "Look, I wanted to apologize for blowing you off earlier."

"Don't worry about it, Dell," she replied. "I don't know what memories the Nightmare gave back to you, but we all know who you are. Whatever it was, it's water under the bridge now."

"Thanks, old friend," Dellis said with a grin, putting an arm around her shoulder and giving her a squeeze.

"Watch who you're calling old," Hawke complained, pushing him away playfully. "You're not much younger than I am."

"Point taken," Dellis chuckled. "I'm glad you're staying."

"This is where I can bring the fight to Corypheus," she told him with a shrug. "It's the _only_ place I should be."

* * *

"Why am I hitting you again?" Cassandra asked with a sigh and a slight roll of her eyes.

"Because clearly you need to hit something," the Qunari grunted. "Again!"

Cassandra tightened her grip on the wooden stick the Qunari had requested she beat him with, winding up and striking him as hard as she dared. The stick shuddered as it thudded against his stomach.

"Again!" Bull shouted, grunting as the stick once again hit him. "Come on, this is why the Qun doesn't like women fighting! I should have asked Cullen."

Cassandra's face twisted into what might have been considered by some to be a snarl. This time when she struck him, she dipped the weapon down and brought it straight up into Bull's chin. With a crack, he toppled over backwards, flat onto his back. Cassandra leaned on the pole and looked down at him, affording herself a modest smile.

"Good one," Bull groaned, pushing himself out of the grass and to his feet. He rubbed a hand across his jaw. "Feeling better?"

"Me?" Cassandra asked. "I thought this was about you, Bull."

"You looked like you needed to work out a little frustration," Bull told her with a grin. "I didn't think you'd appreciate my _other_ suggestion."

Cassandra snorted in disgust. "What is bothering you, Bull?"

"I heard about that Nightmare the Boss fought in the Fade," Bull replied, shaking his head slightly. "It sounded big."

"I heard the same from Hawke's report," Cassandra told him. Bull cocked his head slightly.

"Hawke's report?" he asked with a chuckle. "The Boss getting too big to file his own reports now?"

Cassandra paused before responding. She could feel a flush of anger rise in her cheeks as she thought of Dellis, who she had not seen since their altercation in the forge. "I have not seen him since shortly after we returned from Adamant," she finally told him. "Perhaps you should ask _him_."

"Trouble with you and the Boss?" Bull asked with a grin, crossing his massive arms over his chest.

"It is not my place to speak of it," Cassandra replied dismissively.

Bull grunted in response. "Well, maybe a drink, then?"

"I don't think so," she chuckled.

"Oh, come on, Seeker, live a little," Bull urged. "Have you even set _foot_ in a tavern in the last twenty years?"

Cassandra gave the Qunari her best side-eyed glare. "I have," she told him, "however that does not mean I will join _you_ in one."

"Ouch," he groaned, his hand over his chest in mock offense. "You probably can't hold your liquor, anyway."

"Is that what you think?" Cassandra asked with a smile. "Well, I suppose you shall never know then."

"Aww, Seeker, you're killing me!" Bull complained. "Come on, one drink?"

"Perhaps another time, Bull," she told him, handing him the stick.

"You're no fun sometimes, Cassandra," he complained, taking it from her and shaking his head as she walked away.

* * *

It was nearly dusk and Dellis sat in the tavern nursing his second drink of the evening. He'd been there for almost an hour, and the barmaids kept giving him odd looks. Normally he'd have gone through several more pints by this time in the evening, but he just didn't have it in him.

"Why so glum, Inquisitor?" Maryden asked from several meters away.

Dellis looked up to see her approaching. She leaned on the table across from him, smiling as he moved back in his chair slightly. "Oh, the usual," he said with a shrug, picking up his mug and taking a sip to try to avoid the conversation.

"You've been pretty down since you all returned from Adamant," she mentioned, taking a seat. "Something bad happen?"

"Not exactly," Dellis shrugged. "I saved the world. Again."

"How dare you," Maryden replied with a smirk. "I've heard a few rumors."

"Like what?" he asked, lowering his mug just slightly.

"Oh, that you fought a demon, banished the Wardens, and got into a nasty fight with the Seeker," she replied, pointing to his bruised cheek. "Looks like she has a nasty right hook."

Dellis could feel his cheeks grow warm as she looked at him. "How does _everyone_ know about that?"

"You're not very good at secrets, dear," Maryden explained with a wink. "Gossip flows faster in Skyhold than wine."

"Let me make a note to myself not to talk to anyone anymore," Dellis sighed. He set the mug down.

She snickered, stealing the mug and taking a sip. "Good thing you're not one of Leliana's agents."

Dellis stirred to respond, but was interrupted by a loud cough above him. As he looked up, he could see Sera standing on the floor above him, waving for him to meet her upstairs. He turned to Maryden, who shrugged.

"You better go," she suggested. "Wouldn't want to keep Red Jenny waiting."

"You know _everything_ , don't you?"

"Everything that's worth knowing," Maryden agreed. "And everyone."

"Right," he laughed, leaving the mug as he stood up. He wasted no time in climbing the staircase toward the second floor.

"About time you got up here," Sera complained as he reached the top of the stairs. "Well, come on then."

"Come where?" he asked as Sera grabbed his arm and began to drag him toward the small room in the corner that she had claimed as her own.

"There's something I want to do for you," she explained, pulling him into the room. The window stood wide open.

Dellis stared at her for a moment. "Wait, you want me to go out on the roof?"

"Not afraid of heights, are you?" she asked with a laugh. "Come on, you shite."

Sera grabbed a small sack sitting next to the window and climbed out on the tavern roof. Dellis quickly followed her, careful not to lose his footing on the shingles. The elf sat on the edge of the roof, her feet dangling over the edge as she opened the sack. Dellis sat next to her.

"Here," she said, handing him something from the bag. He took it, surprised to find that it was a cookie.

"Of all the things I thought we might do out here, this was at the bottom of the list," Dellis told her with a chuckle. He took a bite, his nose wrinkling slightly at the taste. Sera had clearly made them herself.

"They're awful, right?" she told him. "Frigging raisins."

"I've had worse," Dellis chuckled, taking another bite. "They could use a bit more sugar, I think."

"Whatever," she told him with a shrug. "I still hate cookies."

"You hate them?" Dellis asked. "If you hate them, why did you make them?"

"When I was little, this stupid noble lady took me in," Sera explained, looking down at the confection in her hand. "She was sick and couldn't have children. I had no parents. It worked out.

"So anyway, she gets a year sicker, so I ask her about cookies. Because mums make cookies. I can pass that down, or something." Sera continued to play with the cookie in her hand as she talked. "Turns out she couldn't cook. She missed that talk with _her_ mum. The ones she _made_ , she bought and pretended."

"It was awfully sweet of her to try," Dellis offered, receiving a scowl in response.

"No, she was a bitch," Sera growled, looking up at him. "She hid buying them by keeping me away from the baker. She did _that_ by lying that he didn't like me. Didn't like _elves_." She sighed, tossing the cookie down into the bushes below. "She let me hate so she could protect her _pride_. I hated him so much, and I hated..."

"Sera," Dellis said, putting a hand on Sera's shoulder. She shrugged it off with a sigh.

"Well, she died, and I hate pride," she told him. "Pride cookies."

"So, if you hate cookies, why are we up here eating them?" Dellis asked, rubbing the back of his head with a frown.

"Well, I thought maybe if I shared them with you..." she trailed off. "Look, you've been nice to me and you didn't have to be."

"We're the same, Sera," Dellis told her with a smile. "I might not have been one of your friends, but I know what it's like to come from the streets."

"It's weird, yeah?" she asked. "I haven't really cared about another person since... well... I don't know, maybe ever. But when we thought you kicked it at Adamant..." Sera shook her head. "I don't know. It's weird."

"Don't worry about it," he told her, giving her shoulder a playful shove. His gaze shifted slightly as he saw light glinting off something in the distance. "Is that... Cassandra?"

"Where?" Sera asked, following his stare. "What, over by the stables?"

"What's she doing by the horses?" Dellis asked, more to himself than to Sera. He pushed himself to his feet, careful not to take a tumble into the bushes below. "Sorry, Sera."

"Whatever," she said with a wave of her hand, digging into the bag.

"Rain check?" Dellis asked. Sera grunted, shooing him as she chewed on another cookie.

Dellis quickly ducked back into the tavern and made his way down the stairs. It took him several minutes to cross the keep's large courtyard, but as he approached the stables, he could see Cassandra tightening the harness on one of the Inquisition's many horses. The sun had nearly set, so it was surprising to find her standing in the stable in full armor.

"Going somewhere?" he asked cautiously as he approached. Cassandra's head turned faster than he thought possible.

"What are _you_ doing here?" she growled. Dellis took a deep breath and cleared his throat.

"Wondering why you're leaving the keep alone at dusk," he replied with a weak smile.

Cassandra glared at him. "It is none of your business."

"You're decked out in full armor, and you've got a saddle on that horse," he reminded her, crossing his arms. "You're going somewhere alone."

"How perceptive of you," she replied sarcastically.

"Are you abandoning the Inquisition?" Dellis asked flatly.

"What?" Cassandra asking, sounded as though he had offended her. "I would _never_ do that."

"Good, I didn't think so," Dellis returned. "In that case, I'm going with you."

"Excuse me?" she asked. "If you think I would let you-"

"Whatever you have planned, you're foolish to go alone," Dellis interrupted. "If you won't let the Inquisition help you, at least let _me_ come."

Dellis was surprised when Cassandra hesitated to respond. He had expected another flat-out refusal, but she seemed to actually be considering his request.

"You're not a one-woman army," Dellis reminded her. "Besides, I have skills you don't."

"Ten minutes," she finally told him with a sigh. He smiled victoriously as she rolled her eyes at him. " _Go._ "

Dellis wasted no time in rushing back to the keep to get his gear, hoping she would keep her word and not be gone when he returned.


	19. Caer Oswin

They had traveled half the distance before Cassandra told him that they were headed to Caer Oswin, the home of Bann Loren of Ferelden. She hadn't initially told him why, and Dellis had been hesitant to press her for information she wasn't willing to give, so he let the matter be. Though Bann Loren's lands were not terribly far from Skyhold, the trip had been painfully silent.

"There, up ahead," Cassandra announced, pointing toward a barely visible castle in the distance.

"So why are we headed to Caer Oswin?" Dellis finally risked asking. Cassandra glanced toward him, as if considering her response, before turning her gaze back toward the path ahead of them.

"I believe the Seekers are there," she told him. "It occurred to me some time ago that we had not seen Lord Seeker Lucius at Haven, nor any Seekers. In fact, I have seen no hint of _any_ Seekers amongst the red templars. Or anywhere."

Dellis frowned at the almost imperceptible slump in her shoulders. "You think Corypheus has done something with them?"

"My leads have all pointed there, to Caer Oswin," she confirmed.

"So you think Corypheus has them imprisoned at Caer Oswin, and you just planned to run headlong into a castle potentially _full_ of red templars?" he asked. " _By yourself?_ "

Cassandra turned to look at him again, her expression one of pure annoyance. "If you wish to turn back, by all means go."

"That's not what I meant," Dellis protested. "But really, we could have brought more people."

"This is _my_ task," she replied with a shake of her head, breaking eye contact. "I didn't even want _you_ here."

"Then why did you let me come?" There was no answer.

"Let us proceed on foot," Cassandra suggested after another painful moment of silence. She quickly dismounted her horse, tying the reins to a nearby tree. Dellis followed suit and quickly fell in step behind her, making sure his bow was ready in case they met any resistance before reaching the castle.

"You didn't need to hide this from the Inquisition," Dellis told her as they wound their way through the trees. "We could have spared the resources."

Dellis stopped abruptly as she turned to face him, her jaw set in an angry glare. "You are _hardly_ one to speak for the Inquisition after what you have done."

There was silence between them for far longer than Dellis had intended. He was no fool. He had known to expect anger and resentment, but the sheer bitterness in her voice still caught him off guard. "You're right, I'm not," he agreed. Cassandra's expression softened, as if she had not expected him to concede the point. "I'm here, though."

Cassandra stared at him a moment longer, but eventually turned back toward the castle without a sound. Dellis followed closely behind, watching for trouble.

The two had camped briefly halfway through their journey, each knowing they would need at least a few hours' rest if they were to be combat ready. The sun was just cresting over the horizon as they crept toward the castle. The forest was quiet, and as the trees thinned Dellis could see that the path to Caer Oswin seemed clear of any danger. Either Cassandra was mistaken about Corypheus being involved, or something was very wrong.

Dellis followed behind Cassandra as they approached the castle itself. She pointed toward a door just ahead of them, seemingly a servant's entrance of some sort. With her shield ready, Cassandra pushed the door open. A man stood, in full armor no less, with his back to them. He was definitely no servant.

"What in the bloody Maker...?" the man asked as he turned around. When he noticed the Seeker logo on Cassandra's tabard, the man immediately pulled his sword and shouted. Cassandra was ready, quickly whipping him with her shield and sending him staggering backward. Dellis pulled an arrow out of his quiver, but frowned when he realized he couldn't get a clear shot around Cassandra in the cramped hallway. This complicated matters as several more soldiers approached.

"Cass, duck!" Dellis shouted as he pulled a second arrow from his quiver. He set both of the arrows on the bowstring and pulled back as Cassandra dropped to one knee. She raised her shield slightly as he released the arrows. The two projectiles soared past her, striking two of the men before they could make it halfway down the hall. A third faltered slightly, just enough for Cassandra to regain her footing and cut him down. A fourth skidded to a halt before turning tail and retreating down the hall. Cassandra made no effort to catch him as she finished off the other two.

"It will not be long before the castle is fully aware of our presence," she warned, kneeling down next to one of the bodies. She reached down, pulling a medallion out from under the man's breastplate. With a disgusted grunt she tore it off the body and threw it at the wall. "Promisers. I should have known."

"Promisers?" Dellis asked, picking up the medallion. It was not so different from that of the Seekers, though it seemed like Andraste's eye was wreathed in far more flame.

"The Order of Fiery Promise," Cassandra clarified, returning to her feet with a scowl that rivaled the many she'd given Dellis since returning from Adamant. "It is a cult with... strange beliefs about the Seekers. They've hounded us for centuries."

"What exactly do you mean by 'strange beliefs'?" Dellis asked, still looking at the medallion.

"They believe _they_ are Seekers," she explained. "The only rightful ones. They say we robbed their powers long ago, preventing them from ending the world."

"Pardon?" Dellis asked, turning his attention toward Cassandra. "Did you say ending the world?"

"They believe that it is the only way to truly eradicate evil," Cassandra continued. "That by ending the world it will be reborn a paradise."

"That's utter nonsense," Dellis snorted, tossing the medallion next to the Promiser.

"You will hear no disagreement from me," Cassandra told him.

"If they're such a problem, then why haven't the Seekers simply gotten rid of them?"

"We have, many times," Cassandra explained. "They simply reappear after a time, like weeds. Nobody knows how."

"It always has to be cultists, doesn't it?" Dellis asked with a shake of his head.

"This explains why the Seekers might be here, but not the connection to Corypheus," Cassandra replied with a frown. "We must investigate further."

Without another word, Cassandra continued deeper into the castle. Dellis followed her, bow ready just in case they were ambushed by any more Promisers. She pushed open a door, leading them into a long hallway littered with barrels and chests. Cassandra stopped short before reaching the end of the hallway, and as he looked past her Dellis could see why. Laying at the end of the hall was a body, and judging from the tabard it was that of a Seeker.

Cassandra slowly moved forward, dropping down to her knee to inspect the corpse. "Did they torture him?" she asked, barely loud enough for Dellis to hear.

"Did you know him?" Dellis asked from behind her. Cassandra looked up at him, the anger clear in her face.

"Of course I knew him," she said, pushing herself to her feet. "We are not a large order."

"I'm sorry, Cassandra," Dellis told her as sincerely as possible. She said nothing, but simply turned toward the door.

The doorway lead to a two-story courtyard. Dellis quickly ducked behind a crate next to Cassandra as the voices of nearly a dozen Promisers echoed off the stone walls behind them.

"How do you plan to get through this one alive?" Dellis whispered.

"We will see if you are truly as skilled as you claim," she replied, jumping out from behind the crates and running toward the Promisers. Dellis shouted after in protest, although by that point her position was already forfeit. Swearing loudly, he popped out from cover, reaching back to his quiver and firing arrow after arrow.

Cassandra leapt down to the main level of the courtyard, keeping enough momentum to block an almost immediate attack by one of the warriors. She raised her shield, letting the Promiser's sword bounce off harmlessly before lancing out with her sword. It pierced the man’s lighter armor, ripping through the chain mail and stopping him in his tracks. He slid to the ground as Cassandra pulled the sword back, leaving him a sputtering mess in the grass.

Dellis gritted his teeth, moving to a higher perch on top of the crates so he could keep better tabs on Cassandra as she hacked her way through Promiser after Promiser. The fury and sheer precision of her warpath was quite nearly distracting. He had never had the opportunity or the vantage point to fully appreciate her prowess in battle. Now that he could, it seemed fairly clear that picking off enemies from above was more of a convenience than a necessity.

"I can't believe you took on that many Promisers on your own," Dellis remarked in awe as he hopped down from the second floor to join her. Cassandra was crouched next to one of the bodies, rifling through the man's armor. Finally she pulled out what appeared to be a small slip of paper. She seemed to growl after reading it, handing it to Dellis without so much as turning around.

"Read it," she hissed. Dellis slung his bow over his shoulder and took the piece of paper.

"As the Seekers of Truth have proven resistant to the effects of red lyrium, the Elder One has seen fit to place them in your care," Dellis read with a frown. "Reclaim your destiny, and know that the Elder One expects your devotion as repayment."

"It is signed by Lord Samson, commander of the red templars," Cassandra told him, getting to her feet. She looked very much like she was trying to contain a burning rage that threatened to spill out at any moment. "Does Corypheus not realize the Promisers want the world to end? What use are they to him?"

"I don't think he's really concerned about their loyalty after he gets what he wants," Dellis told her. "He probably plans to betray them, just like everyone else."

"This doesn't explain how he captured the Seekers in the first place," Cassandra growled, "or what's been done with them."

"From the letter, it sounded like they were trying corrupt the Seekers just like the templars," Dellis suggested.

"I do not know why Seekers would be resistant to such corruption," she admitted, "though it would explain why none have numbered among the red templars."

"That must be why Corypheus sold them to the cultists," Dellis realized. "Without the red lyrium corruption, he would never be able to control them."

"We must keep looking," she urged, moving past him. He quickly fell in step behind her as they approached the door leading deeper into the castle.

The two had to cut through several more groups of Promisers before finally moving beyond the throne room. Cassandra led him through the winding corridors of the castle, past several bodies of defeated Seekers. Dellis could see her tense each time they passed one of her former comrades. As they approached a set of stairs Dellis could see another body in full Seeker regalia. This time, he heard Cassandra gasp lightly as they neared.

"Daniel!" she exclaimed, rushing toward the still moving Seeker. "Daniel, can you hear me?"

"Cassandra?" the man sputtered. His skin was ashen and the blood vessels in his face were dark and visible, as if coursing with poison. "It is you. You're alive."

"As are you," Cassandra breathed in relief. "I'm so glad I found you."

Dellis approached cautiously from behind them. It was clear from the tone in Cassandra's voice that this particular Seeker was special. He was more than just a comrade, and Dellis hadn't seen her so vulnerable since after her fight with Varric.

"They... put a demon inside me, Cassandra," Daniel stammered. "It's tearing me up."

"What?" she asked, backing away slightly. "You can't be possessed. That's impossible!"

"I'm not possessed," he told her. "They... fed me things. I can feel it growing."

"Is there anything we can do for him?" Dellis asked from his position beside her. Cassandra looked up at him. Her expression was one of anger and sorrow, each competing for dominance.

"I... don't know," she admitted after a moment of hesitation. "This thing inside him..."

"The Lord Seeker," Daniel interrupted, coughing as his entire body convulsed. Cassandra put a hand on his shoulder to calm him. "You have to find Lucius."

"Of course we'll find him," Cassandra assured him. "If he lives, we'll-"

"He betrayed us, Cassandra," Daniel told her. "He sent us here, one by one. 'An important mission,' he said. _Lies_. He was here with them all along. He's still working with them."

"But how could have been here?" Dellis asked, his brow furrowed in confusion. "We met Lord Seeker Lucius in Val Royeaux."

"That wasn't him," Daniel explained. "It was a demon, masquerading."

"What?" Cassandra asked. "How could that be?"

"The Lord Seeker allowed it," Daniel continued. "He let the demon take command, while we..."

"Came here," Cassandra finished. She looked as though her heart had been ripped from her chest, and nothing remained. Her normally fiery eyes had dulled, and her jaw was clenched so tightly that Dellis could see the muscles twitch in her face.

"Cassandra..." he breathed, putting a hand on her arm. She shrugged him off, though she said nothing.

"Don't leave me like this," Daniel pleaded. "Please..."

"You should have come with me," Cassandra said to him, her voice filled with sadness. "You didn't believe in the war any more than I did."

"You know me," Daniel told her, smiling as much as he could through his pain. "I wanted that promotion."

As the two Seekers looked at each other, Dellis stood and moved away, turning his back to give them the privacy they deserved. He knew how this would end.

"Go to the Maker's side, Daniel," Cassandra said softly. "You will be welcome."

Dellis heard Cassandra pull her sword out of its sheath, and he tried not to flinch as he heard her give Daniel the merciful death he deserved. Dellis turned to face her as he heard the sword slide back into the sheath.

"He was my apprentice," Cassandra explained as she moved to join him, her eyes still sullen.

"You don't have to explain anything to me," Dellis assured her with a frown.

"Now we find Lord Seeker Lucius," she ordered, an angry bite in her voice.

Cassandra turned toward the stairs and began to climb, with Dellis close on her heels. The staircase led to an outdoor courtyard, and it was all Dellis could do not to turn and empty his stomach in the corner. At the far side of the courtyard was a pile of bodies the height of a man. They had found the rest of the Seekers.

"Sweet Maker," Cassandra muttered under her breath as they moved closer.

"I think some of these bodies have been here a while," Dellis told her, noticing that several of the corpses closer to the bottom of the pile had started to sprout red lyrium growths.

Dellis was the first to notice the red templars approach from behind them. He turned, bow at the ready, as Lord Seeker Lucius strode into view, flanked by half a dozen red templars and what appeared to be several Seekers.

"Cassandra, with a man I can only assume is the new Inquisitor," Lucius greeted them.

"And you're the man who betrayed his own Order," Dellis snarled before Cassandra could reply. "And for what? Power? You have none."

Lucius chuckled, and Dellis had to put a hand on Cassandra's arm to keep her from moving forward.

"I presume you know we Seekers of Truth were once the original Inquisition," Lucius told him. "We tried to restore order in a time of madness, just as you are. Our successes made us a proud order, and we sought to remake the world. To make it _better_. And what did we create? The Chantry. The Circles of Magi. A war that will see no end."

"You lured them _all_ to their deaths!" Dellis shouted, pointing to the bodies.

"There was no other choice," Lucius claimed.

"No other choice?" Cassandra asked, finally breaking her silence. "Have you gone mad? There is _always_ a choice."

"We Seekers are abominations, Cassandra," Lucius told her. "We created a decaying world, and fought to preserve it even as it crumbled. We had to be _stopped_."

"He _has_ gone mad," Dellis agreed with a shake of his head.

"You don't believe me? See for yourself." Lucius held out a book, emblazoned with the all seeing eye. "The secrets of our Order, passed to me after the former Lord Seeker was slain. The war with the mages had already begun, but it was not too late for me to do the right thing."

"You think _this_ was the right thing?" Cassandra asked, her tone exasperated and perplexed. "What you've done here-"

"What Corypheus has done with the templars does not matter," Lucius affirmed. "I have seen the future. I have created a new Order to replace the old. The world will end so we can start anew. A pure beginning."

"He's _actually_ joined the Promisers," Dellis said to Cassandra with a laugh. He turned his attention back to the Lord Seeker. "You know, I've seen the future too, and I didn't much like it."

Rather than allow Lucius the chance to respond, Cassandra pulled out her blade with a snarl and charged forward. Dellis barely had time to duck behind a column before two of the archers opened fire on him. He winced as he felt one of the arrows rip through the sleeve of his jacket. As the archers paused between volleys, Dellis risked leaving the cover of the short column to find a better place to hide. He darted out as quickly as he could, hearing the familiar whiz of arrows flying past his head. This time he darted behind a wall, his chest heaving as he leaned back against it.

Dellis moved along the wall, taking a moment to carefully peek his head out from the other side. Cassandra had managed to relieve one of the archers of his head, and the other had subsequently turned his attention toward her. Dellis pulled out an arrow, pulling back the string and letting it sail across the courtyard. The arrow pierced the archer's throat just as he was pulling back his own bowstring. As the dying templar released the string, the arrow flew haphazardly into a bush.

Cassandra was still locked in combat with Lucius and two Seekers. Dellis fired off a shot at the Lord Seeker, hoping to at least distract him. The arrow glanced harmlessly off his shield.

With a soft growl, Dellis threw his bow over his shoulder and pulled out the two knives Cole had given him. He dug his feet into the ground beneath him and launched himself into a sprint at one of the Seekers. The Seeker, who wielded a pair of blades and conveniently light armor, noticed Dellis immediately and struck at him with both swords. Dellis dropped to one knee and used his moment to slide under the attack, slicing at the Seeker's leg. The warrior cried out in pain, faltering just long enough to allow Dellis to jump to his feet and bury the blades in his ribs.

Cassandra had dealt with the other Seeker and now stood toe to toe with Lord Seeker Lucius. Dellis moved forward, hoping to catch the Lord Seeker off guard. Instead, Lucius thrust his shield at Dellis in a vicious bash, never taking his eyes off Cassandra. Dellis found himself sprawled on his back in the grass, momentarily too stunned to move.

When he came to his senses, Dellis stood and pulled out his thankfully intact bow. He pulled an arrow out of his quiver and aimed carefully, finally letting it loose. The wooden shaft sailed through the air toward Lucius's head. The Lord Seeker was easily able to block the arrow, but had to bring his shield up to do it. This momentary distraction finally gave Cassandra the opening she'd been waiting for. With a quick thrust, her heavy sword punched right through the Lord Seeker's armor. The only mercy she showed him was a quick death.

Dellis approached slowly as Cassandra bent down to pick up the book Lucius had showed them. "He was insane," she said to herself softly. "He had to be."

Cassandra decided that a pyre would be the most practical and respectful choice for the fallen Seekers. Dellis stood watch while she burned the bodies in complete silence. He was thankful that the wind was blowing in the opposite direction, although the smell was still overpowering.

"We should consider camping in the castle," Dellis suggested, noting the rather ominous looking clouds that had begun to roll in.

"The castle is likely still teeming with Promisers," Cassandra reminded him, turning and walking toward him.

"It looks like a storm is coming," he added with a hopeful smile.

Cassandra rolled her eyes at him, but finally nodded. "Yes, you are right."

"The servant’s entrance we started in probably won't see much foot traffic til morning," Dellis pointed out. "I think we'll be safest there."

The two backtracked to the side entrance. Dellis quickly jury-rigged traps at the doors, hoping to at least have some audible warning if they were interrupted. A few small torches burned along the wall, giving barely just enough light for the two of them to see each other.

"Are you alright?" Dellis finally asked. Cassandra, who was sitting on the stone floor with her back against the wall, shrugged slightly.

"It's none of your business," she told him.

"It is my business," he told her, dragging a crate toward where she sat. He sat down on top of it and looked at her. "I know you're angry with me."

"Rightfully so," Cassandra reminded him with a scowl.

"Let me tell you the whole story," he pleaded. "Then if you still want to hate me, you can."

"What is the point of this?" she asked with an annoyed sigh.

"You've got a lot to be angry about right now," Dellis explained. "I'm trying to give you one less thing."

"Fine, but I make no promises."

"I know I told you I left for Denerim when I was seventeen," Dellis began, leaning forward with his hands on his knees. "I knew how to survive out in the wilds, but the big city was a different story. I could hunt for food, but it didn't take long for me to fall in with the wrong sorts."

"With criminals, you mean?" Cassandra asked, a slight bite to her tone.

"Yes, criminals," he confirmed with a sigh. "I was young and stupid. I was _exactly_ what they were looking for. I got out by the time I was twenty, but you never get out scot free." Dellis shifted slightly, rubbing his neck as he considered how to proceed. "Even though I was out of the gang, I didn't have much way to make coin, so I took out loans... from the Carta."

"You borrowed money from the Carta?" she asked, her voice laced with incredulity. "You truly _were_ stupid."

"You do stupid things to survive sometimes," Dellis told her with a light laugh. "I tried, but there was no way I could pay them back. It wasn't long before they started sending enforcers to collect. When that didn't work, they started sending assassins."

"So let me get this clear," Cassandra began. "You borrowed coin from the Carta, then killed the men that came to collect it?"

"That's about the size of it," Dellis told her with a tiny smirk.

"You _are_ stupid."

"Very," he agreed with a laugh. "I'd dodged five or six assassins when the Mage's Collective approached me with... an offer."

"An offer to commit _treason_."

Dellis crossed his arms and gave her as serious a look as he could. "Do you want me to finish this story, or do you want to tell it for me?"

Cassandra started to say something, but stopped herself. Dellis couldn't be sure in the low light, but he thought he saw a blush in her cheeks. "I apologize," she said after a moment. "Continue."

"The Mage's Collective approached me one day and offered me a contract to kill a high ranking Chantry official," Dellis explained. "It was more money than I'd ever seen in my life, and probably ever would see, and most Chantry officials are corrupt anyway. I jumped at the offer to finally get the coin I needed to pay my debts and save my own life."

"Did you even ask who it was?" Cassandra asked.

"No, I didn't," he chuckled. "The biggest mistake I could have made." He sighed to himself, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "I was halfway to Haven before they even told me."

"Would you have declined the contract if you had known the target was Most Holy?" Cassandra asked, her curiosity seeming to outweigh her anger.

"Probably," Dellis admitted with a shrug. "They had me pose as a Tranquil to infiltrate the Temple of Sacred Ashes. I had the means, the opportunity, and the skill. I could have done it."

"Why didn't you?"

"Because I heard her speak," Dellis told her with a smile. "I couldn't kill her, and... I still think sometimes that it should have been me that died in the Fade."

Cassandra was silent for several minutes, and Dellis wondered if perhaps she didn't believe him. Finally she looked him in eyes. "Why did you not tell me this before?"

"I wanted you to be angry at me," he explained with a defeated shrug. "I thought I needed to be punished."

She seemed to growl slightly as she shook her head. "It is not my place to punish you for your deeds, Dellis," Cassandra told him. "Only the Maker can judge."

"Yes, well your judgment is a bit more satisfying," he told her with a small smile, rubbing a hand across his still bruised jaw.

"I... apologize for that," she told him bashfully.

"Don't, I was asking for it," Dellis reminded her. "I just want you to know that no matter what happened in the past, I'm here for the Inquisition."

"I believe you," Cassandra finally admitted, sighing deeply. "I simply wish you had explained all of this the first time."

"In hindsight, so do I," he agreed. Dellis stood up, shoving the crate back toward the wall with his boot. "I'll take the first watch."

Dellis watched as Cassandra drifted off to sleep, smiling slightly to himself. He knew it would take more than a few words to weasel his way back into her good graces, but he would find a way to do it.

 


	20. Shattered Glass

Almost immediately upon their return to Skyhold, Dellis and Cassandra had been given an earful from Josephine for abandoning the Inquisition without notice. Dellis had tried to keep most of the attention focused on himself, since Cassandra looked as though she might snap the diplomat in two at any moment. Thankfully Josephine let her go, though Dellis was not so lucky.

"You should not be encouraging this kind of behavior, Inquisitor," she chided.

"Would _you_ have wanted to try and stop her?" Dellis asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, I suppose not," Josephine admitted. "But-"

"I can't work miracles, Josie," Dellis chuckled. "If my options were to let her go off and get herself killed, or sneak out with her to make sure she stayed alive, then I don't need to defend my decision."

Josephine pursed her lips as she considered his response. Eventually a smile slowly spread across her face. "I'm impressed how quickly you've adapted to this role, given your background."

"If anyone else said that, I'd be offended," he told her with a smirk. "But coming from you, I'll accept it as a compliment."

"It was intended as one, Your Worship."

"Maker's breath, don't call me _that_ ," he laughed. "By the way, that thing I said about resigning if we found out my parents were Crows..."

"As I recall, we have discovered no such thing," she told him with a smile.

"But I was-"

"Not an Antivan Crow," Josephine finished for him. "And besides, _your_ background was not part of the agreement."

"You are a darling, Josephine Montilyet," Dellis told her with a smile, pleased to see her blush in response.

"Well, then, now that you're here," she continued, "perhaps we should discuss the Grand Masquerade."

"Blast, I missed my chance to leave," Dellis grumbled under his breath. "You know, I think Varric needed to speak with me."

"Nice try, Inquisitor," Josephine told him with a wry smile. "Consider this your punishment."

* * *

When Cassandra stepped into the Herald's Rest, nearly half the heads in the tavern turned toward her. She ignored the warmth creeping up the back of her neck as her eyes fell on the Chargers, who sat together deep in raucous conversation. They seemed to be one of the only groups that had not noticed the out of place Seeker.

The table fell silent as Cassandra approached. Iron Bull, who had his back to her, turned to look as he realized his normally loud group of mercenaries had been utterly silenced. He stared at her, mouth slightly agape, as she sat at the table across from him.

"Doth my eyes deceive me," Bull laughed, leaning back in his chair, "or has the Seeker graced us with her presence?"

"You wanted to drink," Cassandra told him flatly.

"I seem to recall you saying I'd _never_ find out how well you could hold your liquor," Bull reminded her, grinning and leaning forward on the table.

"Don't ruin this, Boss," Krem chimed in, waving over the barmaid.

"Keep the drinks coming," Bull ordered, still smiling. He turned his attention back to Cassandra. "So you want to drink with me and my boys?"

Cassandra stared at the Qunari for a moment. She knew exactly what she was about to do, and she knew it was a bad idea. She wanted it anyway. She wanted to drown the feelings that she shouldn't be having. She wanted the pain to stop.

Instead of responding, Cassandra grabbed a glass from the tray the barmaid had brought. She raised it to her lips and began to drink, feeling the warmth of the alcohol burn through her. It was an usual feeling, one that she had almost forgotten, but it made her smile. She finished the glass, setting it upside down on the table and looking up at Bull. "Your turn."

"A contest, then?" Bull asked with a raised eyebrow, a low laugh rumbling from deep within him. He grabbed one of the drinks, draining it quickly and slamming it down hard enough to rattle the rest of the glasses. "Your move, Seeker."

Cassandra's lip turned upward into a snarl as she grabbed another drink, throwing it back and slamming it down on the table. She could hear chuckles from the others around them. Krem was busy trading coins with one of the Chargers, while two others seemed to be arguing about who would win. Bull, who had just taken his own drink, set a glass in front of her.

"What is this?" Cassandra asked, her nose wrinkling at the smell.

"Maraas-lok," Bull told her. "Qunari alcohol with a bit more kick to it than this weak swill your bartender normally serves."

"I heard that," Cabot, the barkeep, shouted from across the tavern.

"Then bring us some decent alcohol!" Bull shouted back with a grin. With a shake of his head, Cabot motioned for the barmaid to return. Bull nudged the glass closer to her, his grin spreading even wider. Cassandra snatched the glass and took a swig. Almost immediately, she began to gag as the significantly stronger alcohol burned flames down to her gut. Bull was laughing so hard it seemed he might fall out of his chair.

Cassandra growled, bringing the glass once again to her lips. She felt the liquor run down her throat as she swallowed, biting back the urge to choke once again. She had to admit that whatever the drink was, the Qunari certainly knew how to pack a punch.

"I'm impressed," Bull told her. "First time I gave maraas-lok to the Inquisitor, he nearly choked to death on it."

Dellis. Cassandra's thoughts drifted back to Caer Oswin, to his attempt to comfort her at the impending loss of her apprentice. She remembered his willingness - no, his _insistence_ \- to accompany her on an unknown mission, despite the fact that she had physically attacked him. She smiled slightly as she remembered their games of Wicked Grace, and all his other attempts to distract her while she had been injured. And of course she remembered the way he had hugged her after her fight with Varric...

"Are you giving up already?" Bull asked. Cassandra's attention snapped back the Qunari. Bull, as well as the rest of the Chargers, were watching her intently. She realized with a blush that she had been distracted for longer than she had intended. Not that she had intended to be distracted by the Inquisitor at all. Her blush intensified, finally annoying her enough that she grabbed another drink and slammed it back.

"I do not retreat from battle," Cassandra explained, looking Bull in the eye. She could feel a tingling sensation in her cheeks as the last drink settled in her stomach, radiating warmth throughout her body. She was smiling, and though she had not intended to do so, she could not bring herself to stop.

"Put some horns on you," Bull suggested with a grin as he took a shot. "You might make a pretty good Qunari."

"I'm not certain that's a compliment," Cassandra returned, reaching for another drink. Krem had taken on the duty of ensuring their supply of liquor was endless. She picked up one of the shots Bull had just taken, and though she wasn't sure what it was, she decided she didn't much care.

"Sure it is," he told her, leaning forward on the table. "You should be proud to be an honorary Qunari!"

"I'm surprised you feel that way, what with my being a woman," Cassandra replied, taking another shot. "It was my understanding that Qunari women don't fight."

"If a Qunari woman really wants to fight and has a gift for it, she becomes an Aqun-athlok," Bull explained, throwing back a shot. He set the glass upside down on the table. "The Aqun-athlok joins the warriors and is treated as a male. He... becomes a guy, basically."

Cassandra quirked an eyebrow at Bull's explanation. "Do you think of me as male, then?"

"That depends," Bull returned, his grin growing wider. "In or out of your armor?"

She snorted in disgust as she reached for another drink. Her fingers brushed past it clumsily and, had Krem not reached out to steady the cup, would have spilled its contents across the table.

"Maybe it's time to put an end to this," he suggested, taking his hand off the glass. "You're both obviously able to hold your liquor."

"Hush, Krem," Bull ordered. "I may never get this opportunity again."

"We are fine, Krem," Cassandra agreed, more carefully grasping the glass. She grinned into the cup as she emptied its contents. She was starting to feel better already.

* * *

Dellis had decided to stop by the Herald's Rest for a quick drink after a short conversation with Varric. As he pushed the door open, he was dumbfounded at the sight before him. Bull was face down on the table, snoring loud enough to hear even from a distance. Cassandra, who he would have been surprised just to _see_ in the tavern, was standing on a chair grinning like an idiot.

"What in the bloody Maker...?"

"Come on, sweetheart," Krem urged from beside Cassandra. "Let's get down off the chair."

"Funny, coming from the king of the chair-standers," Skinner chuckled from behind them. Krem swatted at her with one hand and reached up toward Cassandra with the other. She pulled away in protest, losing her footing and toppling from the chair. Dellis just barely got there in time to catch her.

"Good timing there, Inquisitor," Krem commented, looking incredibly relieved.

"What in the blazes happened here?" Dellis asked, supporting Cassandra's weight as she laughed in his arms.

"The Seeker decided to go toe to toe with the chief," Krem explained, gesturing at the still snoring Qunari. "Can't believe she beat him, to be honest. That woman's got a set."

Dellis looked down at the table, noticing the overabundance of mugs and glasses strewn about. "How many did she have?"

"I lost count, honestly," Krem replied with a slight blush. "At least ten, I think. Probably more."

"I can drink _all_ of you under the table!" Cassandra announced, pushing away from Dellis. He quickly reached forward to wrap his arm around her to prevent her from falling onto the table.

"I think it's time to take you home," Dellis told her. "Krem, can you handle Bull?"

"Don't worry, Inquisitor," Krem told him with a grin. "This isn't the first time I've had to drag his sorry arse to bed."

"Ooh la la," Dalish quipped with a wink.

"Wha- you _know_ that's not what I meant!" Krem protested, rolling his eyes at the chuckling elf. "Bloody useless lot..."

"Thanks for keeping an eye on her, Krem," Dellis said with a nod. He put a hand around Cassandra's waist and placed her arm over his shoulder. "Come on, let's get you out of here."

Dellis half dragged Cassandra to the entrance. She snorted in laughter as they stepped through the door, turning the heads of several passersby. Dellis was sure that she would be mortified in the morning, if she remembered any of it. He began to pull her toward the training area, knowing the stairs there would lead almost directly to her quarters. He was not thrilled with the idea of trying to drag her up them, however.

"You're a nice man," Cassandra told him, patting his cheek with her free hand and nearly causing him to lose his balance as her weight shifted.

"Uh, thank you," he told her awkwardly, reaching up to pull her hand away. He was thankful that she was probably too drunk to even notice his blush.

"We should drink together!" she suggested as Dellis continued to move toward the stairs.

"You don't drink," Dellis reminded her, shaking his head slightly.

"I should do it more," she replied, grinning up at him. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, and if he hadn't been so worried for her he'd have probably gone weak in the knees. Even in her drunken state, that smile...

"I think you've had quite enough for tonight," Dellis suggested. "Possibly for the rest of your life."

"You're funny," Cassandra laughed, leaning harder against him as they finally reached the stairs. "I like you, Dellis Trevelyan."

Dellis couldn't help but smile as she slurred her way through his name. "I had begun to wonder lately."

"You infuriate me more than anyone I have ever met," she told him, stumbling over a few of the words.

"More than Varric?" Dellis asked with a grin. His grin faded as she tripped over one of the steps, nearly toppling them both over the side of the staircase. This prompted raucous laughter from the inebriated Seeker, though Dellis was less inclined to be amused. "Come on, Cass. Lift your feet."

"Stairs are dumb," she grumbled, making slightly more effort to climb the stairs. The difference seemed negligible.

"I would tend to agree," Dellis replied, looking up the staircase ahead of them. They were a little past halfway, and Dellis could feel sweat dripping down his neck despite the chilly evening air. He told himself he would never let her drink again, if he had anything to say about it.

They had almost managed to reach the top of the stairs when Cassandra's footing slipped again. Dellis crashed to the stone steps, grunting through the pain of the landing as he clung to his charge. He barely managed to keep her from sliding down more than a few steps. Dellis sat down on the steps, taking a moment to catch his breath as Cassandra laughed on the stairs beneath him. His attention immediately snapped back to her as the laughter turned to sobbing.

"What's wrong?" he asked in concern, moving down the steps to sit beside her. He flinched as she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his chest. Dellis recovered quickly, putting one arm around her shoulder and bracing himself on the steps with the other. "Come on, Cass. What's the matter?"

"Everyone's gone," she mumbled into his shirt between sobs.

"Not everyone," he told her told, pulling her closer as she continued to cry.

"Everyone I've ever cared for," Cassandra told him, blinking through the tears. "Anthony, Byron, Daniel... Galyan..."

"I'm so sorry, Cassandra," Dellis whispered, reaching up with his free hand to stroke her cheek as he rested his chin on her head. He wasn't sure who most of the people she named were, but he could tell from the anguish in her voice that she cared deeply for each of them. "You've lost so much, and all we've asked you to do is keep on giving."

They sat there on the steps together for what felt like an eternity to Dellis. His fingers threaded themselves through her hair of their own accord, and she clung to him tighter and tighter as the sobs continued to wrack her body. Dellis had known after their encounter with Lord Seeker Lucius that it would only be a matter of time before she broke; it was the last straw of an unfortunately long string of insults. He hadn't counted on her unraveling so completely.

Dellis looked down as he noticed the sobs had stopped. Cassandra's eyes were closed, and had he not been able to feel the steady shallow breaths and the strong beat of her heart against his chest, he might have been concerned. He sighed lightly. Though he was not surprised she had cried herself into exhaustion, he was not thrilled that he would have to carry her the rest of the way to her quarters.

"You owe me for this," Dellis grunted as he lifted her from the steps, taking extra care not to lose his balance and send them both tumbling down - or worse, _off_ \- the stone staircase. As he hoisted her into his arms, he was suddenly very conscious of her incredibly well-toned form, although this was definitely not how he had wanted to appreciate it. He was sure she must have weighed significantly more than he did, and although he knew it was pure muscle, all he could think was how incredibly _heavy_ she was.

Dellis groaned as he crested the top of the stairs, hearing Cassandra mumble softly into his shoulder. He glanced down at her briefly, praying to the Maker that she wouldn't vomit on him. He slowly made his way down the row of doors until he found the one that belonged to Cassandra. He stopped abruptly as he looked down at the handle, then at the woman in his arms.

"You _really_ owe me," he grumbled as he carefully leaned her against the door jam, quickly reaching down to open the door before gripping her tightly again and moving inside. He kicked the door closed with his foot before moving to deposit her on the bed. Dellis frowned, knowing he couldn't leave alone after she had drank as much as she did.

Dellis removed the satchel that was slung over his shoulder, happy to see it was still there after their awkward journey across the courtyard, and set it down on the desk across from the bed. He sat himself next to it and settled in for a long night.

* * *

Saying the night had been long would have been an understatement. Though he was exhausted, and his muscles screamed in protest from both hauling Cassandra to her quarters as well as from their escapades at Caer Oswin, Dellis knew that he had to stay awake to ensure she made through the night. So when he was jarred awake by her loud groans, Dellis was concerned to find that he had fallen asleep.

Cassandra rolled over, face down into her pillow, and moaned loudly as she woke. Dellis pushed himself to his feet and moved toward the bed, crouching down next to her.

"How's your head?" he asked, flinching as she looked up with a start.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her tone an accusation. "Why are you-"

The expression on Cassandra's face abruptly changed, and Dellis was prepared. He reached behind him for the bucket he had procured earlier in the night and brought it forward just in time. He put one hand on her back and held the bucket with the other, resting it on his knee as she emptied the contents of her stomach.

"Go away," she groaned, rolling over on the bed and burying her face in the pillow once more. Dellis set the bucket down on the floor and sat on the bed next to her.

"Do you really want me to go?" he asked softly, looking at her over his shoulder.

Cassandra made a noise that was half groan and half sigh. "No," she finally admitted, looking up at him. "Why did you stay?"

"To make sure you lived through the night, for one," Dellis told her with a light laugh. "Besides, I figured you'd be upset with me if I sent someone else to take care of you and witness this debacle."

"I am a debacle, am I?" she asked. Dellis was was going to reply until he noticed her attention drift away from him. The wide-eyed look on her face was enough for him to assume she was remembering some of the night's events. "Sweet Andraste..."

Dellis turned slightly to face her as Cassandra looked up at him with an alarmed expression that seemed almost theatrical. He couldn't help but chuckle, which earned him what he could only describe as a pout.

"There is nothing _funny_ about this," she complained, her cheeks red enough for him to notice. "Last night, I didn't... I mean, I shouldn't have..."

"It's alright," Dellis assured her with an amused smile. "You had a rough day, had a little bit too much to drink, and I was the one that just happened to be there. That's all."

Cassandra sighed softly, slowly rolling over and facing him. "Thank you," she said after a moment, wincing slightly as she spoke.

"Perhaps I should check if Solas has any miracle remedies for that headache you must have," Dellis suggested, standing up and turning toward the door.

"Dellis, wait," Cassandra called after him. He stopped and turned toward her. The blush was back in her cheeks, and she had somehow managed to half sit up without making herself sick again.

"What?" Dellis asked as he looked at her.

"Stay, please?" Cassandra asked after a momentary pause. Dellis hesitated, noticing the pleading look in her eyes. He had to force himself not to break into a grin as he moved back toward the bed.

"I suppose I could," he agreed with a shrug, grabbing his satchel from the desk and reaching inside it. "I brought something to cheer you up, although perhaps this is bad timing."

Dellis sat back down on the bed and produced a book from inside the satchel. He handed it to her, this time unable to suppress the stupid grin that spread across his face.

"You ass," she grumbled, unable to hide her own smile as she took the book. "You _told_ him."

"He only agreed to write it if he could give it to you himself," Dellis explained, leaning across her as she inspected the cover. "Luckily, I'm persuasive."

Cassandra continued to smile as she looked at the last chapter of Swords and Shields. "I'm not certain I can actually read it right now," she lamented after a moment.

"I could read it to you," Dellis suggested, giving her his cockeyed grin.

"Don't be ridiculous," she told him, though her smile remained.

"It's the perfect compromise," Dellis insisted. "This way I get to read it too, and you can rest."

Dellis stared at her intently as Cassandra seemed to consider the offer. Finally with a sigh and roll of her eyes, she conceded. "Fine, you can read it."

Without so much as an invitation, Dellis climbed across the bed and plopped himself down next to her with minimal protest. Cassandra took a moment to adjust herself into more of a sitting position as he opened the book. Dellis smiled as she leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder and sighing contentedly as he began to read.


	21. Shall We Dance?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The one-shot [Mixed Feelings](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3532868) takes place between scene 2 and scene 3 of this chapter.

It was early afternoon by the time Dellis was able to slip away. He had spent far longer with Cassandra than he had expected, and although he had enjoyed every minute of it, he knew that if he didn't attend to at least _some_ of his duties, Josephine might kill him.

"Well, well, well," Varric said with a grin as Dellis sauntered into the throne room. "It's about time you decided to show up."

"What are you talking about?" Dellis asked, moving off to the side of the room and closer to the dwarf.

"Josie's been looking for you everywhere," Varric explained, a grin creeping onto his face. "Don't worry. Nobody mentioned you were with Cassandra."

"Nobody mentioned- wait, what?" he sputtered, taking a moment to look over his shoulder to see if anyone was close enough to overhear their conversation. "How do you know that?"

"So it's true," Varric chuckled. "I thought maybe one of the servants just made that up."

"Maker's balls," Dellis groaned quietly. "How do the _servants_ know?"

"The only thing I've learned about this Inquisition is that he more ridiculous the story is, the more likely it is to be true," Varric told him with a shrug. "Don't worry, Squiggles. Your story's safe with me."

"Nothing happened," Dellis assured him. "She just had a little too much to drink, so I took her to her quarters and made sure she didn't die in the middle of the night."

"I can not believe I missed that," Varric grumbled with a shake of his head. "Although that doesn't explain why you were there so long."

"I'm fairly certain she drank half of Cabot's stock," Dellis chuckled.

"What'd you _do_ all morning?" Varric asked, sounding genuinely curious. "I can't imagine she'd be interested in charades."

"We read your book, actually," Dellis told him with a grin. "Not your best work, but it was a fitting ending to the serial."

"We?" Varric asked, raising an eyebrow.

"She was hungover, Varric," Dellis explained quickly. "She could barely keep her eyes open."

"Wait, you read to her?" Varric questioned with a deep chuckle. "I should be taking notes."

"So help me, Varric, if I hear about this in one of your stories, I will lop you off at the knees," Dellis threatened, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Nobody would believe it," the dwarf told him with a shrug. "I swear, Squiggles. This Inquisition is cursed with the most unbelievable stories."

"I'm watching you," Dellis continued, pointing his index and middle fingers at his eyes, then back at Varric. The dwarf grinned.

"Oh, by the way, we got a letter from the new Warden-Commander," Varric said, picking up a slightly crumpled letter from the table in front of him.

"You didn't tell the King about Loghain when you wrote him, did you?" Dellis asked, recalling what Leliana had once told him about the heated rivalry between King Alistair and Loghain Mac Tir.

"You bet your ass I didn't," Varric assured him with a shake of his head, handing over the letter. "The last thing we need is the Fereldan army marching on Weisshaupt."

Dellis took the piece of paper, gently smoothing out some of the more crumpled bits. The handwriting was neater than he would have expected, after meeting the former teyrn, and the letter was brief and to the point.

> Inquisitor Trevelyan:
> 
> The remaining Grey Wardens and I have crossed the border from Orlais into the Anderfels. As suspected, the further we traveled, the less the Calling has come to affect us. I am gratified to report though some still struggle with remnants, the majority of us no longer hear the song. You were right to send us north for the time being. We will not be influenced by Corypheus again.
> 
> Once you have dispatched the fiend, we will petition for re-admittance into Orlais and I do hope that the Inquisition will assist us in our efforts to return. Whatever errors we have made, the Wardens do have the well-being of all of Thedas as our primary motive and do not wish to leave anywhere unprotected from the darkspawn threat longer than is needed.
> 
> Near the border, we came across a small group of mages who were making their way to Weisshaupt for sanctuary. They had been bound for the Conclave but were driven away by Templar attacks. They did have some valuable information regarding the movement of the Red Templars that have become such a menace to you, and I have included all this information in this missive. However, the mages themselves are continuing with us into the Anderfels. Though I am certain the Inquisition could use more mages, they have chosen to stay with the Wardens.
> 
> One of the mages I had the honor of working with in Montsimmard. It was her influence that saw my arrival at Adamant and allowed me to assist you as I did. She asked that I add a note for Grand Enchanter Fiona, if you would convey the message to her.
> 
> Originally she was intended to be a negotiator for the mages, and rightly assumes Fiona likely believes her to be dead. However, Adrian is very much still alive and is very pleased to discover that Fiona is as well. She appreciates your support of the mages and hopes the Inquisition is able to continue to support them as best they can.
> 
> On a personal note, Adrian is very important to me and I am surprisingly happy to have survived long enough to be reunited with her. Though it was not your intention, I'm certain, to provide an old man, and someone many consider a traitor, with yet another chance at life, usefulness and happiness, I still wish to thank you for it.
> 
> May the Maker watch over you,
> 
> Warden-Commander Loghain Mac Tir

Dellis glanced up at Varric over the top of the letter. "Where's the note he mentioned?" he asked. "You didn't read it, did you?"

"No, no," Varric assured him, palms outward. "I do have _some_ sense of decency. I took it to the Grand Enchanter already, and the information on the Red Templars is safe and sound with Curly."

"I'm glad they made it to Weisshaupt safely," Dellis commented, handing the letter back to his friend. "Knowing my luck, the moment we defeat Corypheus we'll have a new Blight."

"Your luck is plenty bad enough, Squiggles," Varric told him, taking the letter. "No need to make things any worse."

* * *

"What do you want her to do, Cassandra? Send you to the Masquerade in full plate armor?"

Cassandra and Leliana stared at each other across Josephine's desk. The conversation had been going well until Josephine insisted that if Cassandra was going to attend the ball, she would have to wear a dress.

"I am a warrior, Leliana," Cassandra reminded her. "The thought of wearing something as frivolous as a dress is... _insulting_."

"Then you can't attend the Grand Masquerade," Josephine told her, barely looking up from her desk as she sifted through a pile of paperwork.

"Cassandra, I know you've spent the better part of your life avoiding The Game," Leliana told her friend, "but to show up to an Orslesian masquerade in a dress uniform would likely offend at least half the nobles present."

"And possibly the Empress herself," Josephine added, eliciting a scowl from the Seeker.

"These are my two options?" Cassandra asked with a sigh. "Sit here and twiddle my thumbs, or be dressed up like a porcelain doll?"

"Unfortunately yes," Josephine confirmed.

Cassandra looked back and forth between the two women, her scowl growing. She had spent the better part of her younger years avoiding balls and suitors and gowns, but the idea of being forbidden from attending the Masquerade... A much larger part of her than she was ready to admit would not trust the safety of the mission to anyone else, even Cullen.

Who was she fooling? It had nothing to do with the safety of the _mission_.

"Fine," she growled impatiently, much to Leliana's and Josephine's mutual delight. The ambassador immediately got up from her desk to stand next to the Spymaster.

"Perhaps something in a deep purple?" Josephine suggested, looking Cassandra up and down in a way that made her skin crawl.

"Vivienne suggested red when I spoke with her," Leliana returned, satisfied to see a blush rise in Cassandra's cheeks.

"You have discussed this ridiculous venture with Vivienne?" Cassandra asked, her tone a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment.

"Of course we have," Leliana told her, as if it was most obvious thing in the world. "There is no one who knows The Game better than Vivienne."

"Except for the two of us," Josephine reminded them with a smile.

Josephine and Leliana descending upon her like ravenous wolves, pointing and measuring. Cassandra was sure she heard Leliana say something about shoes with ribbons, or jewels, or some such nonsense. The idea of being dressed up like a little girl at court was a terrifying prospect. The thought of being surrounded by Orlesian nobility made it even worse.

The two women were half finished measuring their victim when Cassandra heard the heavy wooden door to Josephine's office creak open. Both Josephine and Leliana fell silent, which told Cassandra everything she needed to know. She shrank back, internally if not physically, as she heard the door shut.

"What exactly have I just stumbled onto?" Dellis asked with a light chuckle. Cassandra felt warmth creeping into her cheeks and hoped no one would notice.

"We are just measuring Cassandra for her dress for the Grand Masquerade," Leliana explained with a smile. Cassandra wasn't sure if her hiss was audible or just in her head, although she was sure it wouldn't matter either way.

"You're joking," Dellis laughed. Cassandra glanced at him over her shoulder, giving him the most annoyed look she could possibly muster.

"She refuses to stay in Skyhold," Josephine explained. "And I refuse to let her go to Halamshiral in a dress uniform."

"I still do not see what the fuss is," Cassandra complained as Dellis moved to stand next to the two women. Cassandra felt the blush returning to her cheeks as the three of them stared at her. "Surely as a Seeker of Truth it would not be unrealistic for me to appear in uniform."

"Cassandra, you belong to the Royal Family of Nevarra," Leliana reminded her curtly. "The Orlesian nobility will see that before they see a Seeker."

As the three continued to watch her, Cassandra sighed in disgust. For the briefest of moments, she detested all three of them, but her ire settled squarely on Dellis. He stood there, arms crossed, with that cheeky crooked grin on his face. And the more she glared at him, the bigger his smile got.

"I can't even picture her in anything but armor," he finally said. He continued to smirk as Cassandra rolled her eyes. "I'll believe it when I see it."

"Come now, Inquisitor, surely you could imagine it," Leliana suggested, earning a brief look of sheer rage from her friend.

When Cassandra turned her gaze back toward Dellis, she was surprised - and somewhat dismayed - to see the smile had vanished from his face. Instead, he was looking at her with his arms still crossed and a look of deep concentration. She found his gaze utterly uncomfortable, and yet not entirely unwelcome. If it hadn't been there before, this thought certainly brought a visible blush to her cheeks.

"I guess it's not so difficult to picture after all," Dellis admitted, a softer smile returning to his face. He simply watched her silently for a moment. Cassandra tried to avoid eye contact, looking at the floor, the window, Josephine - anything but Dellis. Finally Leliana cleared her throat, turning both their heads toward her. The distraction was merciful.

"Josephine, since the Inquisitor just happened to wander in, didn't you have something for him to do?" Leliana suggested.

"Oh, of course," Josephine replied, turning her attention to Dellis. "There is the matter of the dance."

"The- what?" Dellis asked, his attention now fully focused on the ambassador.

"You will undoubtedly be required to dance at the Grand Masquerade," Josephine explained impatiently, as though this was not the first time she had mentioned it. "You _must_ be able to dance, lest you offend the court."

"Would you look at the time," Dellis announced with a chuckle, backing away quickly. "I've forgotten I had an appointment with, uh, Iron Bull."

"Iron Bull?" Leliana asked, her eyebrows arched in obvious disbelief.

"Rain check?" he asked with a grin as he crept toward the door. Josephine simply sighed and waved him away.

"I apologize if that made you uncomfortable," Leliana said quietly as the door closed behind the Inquisitor. The look on her friend's face left Cassandra feeling slightly uneasy.

"Might we do this another time?" Cassandra asked, relieved to see a nod of agreement from Josephine.

"Don't hide from us," Josephine warned. "If I can't get your measurements, I'll just have to guess, and _that_ is bound to be uncomfortable."

* * *

"If anyone asks, I spent the entire evening here with you."

"Yeah, yeah," Iron Bull replied, drinking nearly an entire flagon of ale in one long gulp. Dellis shook his head with a smile as he turned toward the tavern exit. Scout Harding waited just outside, tapping her foot impatiently.

"It's about time," she complained, crossing her arms as the door shut behind them. "I've been waiting here for an eternity!"

"I'm only ten minutes late," Dellis reminded her with a chuckle. Her cheeks had grown slightly rosy, this time from annoyance. She pointed toward the barn that normally served as Blackwall's workshop. When they reached it, the Grey Warden was thankfully absent. Dellis had no interest in anyone who didn't absolutely need to be there witnessing what he was about to do.

"So, you want to learn to dance?" Harding asked, her arms still crossed.

"It's less a matter of _wanting_ and more that it is apparently _required_ , according to Ambassador Josephine," Dellis explained, rubbing the back of his neck. "And I would rather not learn from Vivienne, if at all possible."

Scout Harding's stoic expression finally broke into a grin. "Don't worry, Your Worship. I wouldn't do that to you," she assured him with a smile.

"I hate it when you call me that," Dellis complained.

"Ah, sorry about that Your Wor- er, Inquisitor." Harding smiled bashfully for a moment before regaining her composure. "Alright, then. We should get down to work."

The dwarf stepped forward and held out her hands, inviting a perplexed look from her pupil. "What are you doing?" Dellis asked.

"You're going to have to take my hand if you want to learn," Harding explained patiently.

"Wait, you want me to dance with _you?_ " Dellis asked. "But you're so... short."

Harding placed her hands on her hips impatiently. "Do you think dwarves and humans have never danced together before?"

"I didn't say that," he replied, rubbing the back of his neck again. "It's just that I'm rather tall and, well, you're short, and... logistically..."

"Oh, hush," Harding ordered, rolling her eyes dramatically as she stepped forward. Without another word, she took Dellis's left hand and placed it on her waist. She took his right hand in her left and stood across from him. "This is the first step," she explained calmly. "Be careful where you put your left hand, otherwise you might get slapped."

"Wise words, Scout Harding," Dellis returned with a grin. He could only imagine Josephine's horror if he accidentally grabbed a handful of the wrong noble's behind. The court, undoubtedly, would be in an uproar, and he was sure he'd never hear the end of it.

"My name's not Scout," Harding told him with a laugh. "You can call me Lace."

"Your name is _Lace?_ " Dellis asked, unable to hide his smile.

"My mother was a seamstress, blame her!" Harding told him with a small pout. "And stop looking at me like that!"

"Sorry," Dellis chuckled. "It's just that, well, that's adorable."

"Don't you dare tell anyone," she threatened. "I have a reputation to keep up."

"You have my word," Dellis promised. "None shall the wiser that your first name isn't, in fact, Scout."

Harding rolled her eyes, smiling slightly. "As the man, it's your job to lead," Harding explained. "Your partner will follow you, so it's important to know the steps."

"And if I don't?" Dellis asked with a mild frown.

"You hope your partner is just as good at improvising," Harding returned with a grin. "Now, in Orlais they'll probably do some fancy dance, but most of them are just frilly waltzes."

"I think I actually know what a waltz is," he declared with a grin.

"Step forward with your right foot," Harding ordered. Dellis did as he was told, moving hit foot forward as gracefully as possible. Which was, to say, not at all. Harding followed, stepping backward to match. "Now put your other foot just to the left, right here," she ordered, pointing at the floor. She spent the next ten minutes explaining the rest of the steps, until finally they were able to move through the pattern without too many blunders.

"This isn't too bad," Dellis commented with a grin.

"We're just getting started," Harding reminded him. She paused for a moment, finally releasing his hand and taking a step back. "Maybe a short break wouldn't hurt."

Dellis watched as the dwarf plopped herself on a short stack of crates, motioning toward a similar stack across from her. Dellis sat, resting his elbows on his thighs as he studied her closely.

"What, do I have something on my face?" she asked, swiping a hand across her cheek.

"No, no," Dellis chuckled. "I'm just wondering where a dwarf from Redcliffe learns Orlesian ball dancing."

"It's a long story, and you probably wouldn't believe it anyway," Harding laughed. "Let's just say we had some _interesting_ visitors to the farm when I was younger."

"So you learned to dance from a mysterious stranger," Dellis mused with a grin.

"There's only so much to do when you're herding sheep," Harding shrugged. "Besides, dance is great exercise."

"Oh, Scout Harding!" a voice echoed from above them. Dellis turned his attention toward the stairs just in time to see a head poke down below the wooden ceiling.

"Desmond?" Dellis asked. "Shouldn't you be having supper right about now?'

"Already ate," he reported, grinning ear to ear. Dellis loved it when the boy smiled, and typically all it took was remembering his name.

"Hey kiddo," Harding greeted him. "What do you say we show the Inquisitor here a thing or two about _real_ dancing?"

"You've taught the stable hand to dance?" Dellis asked with a chuckle.

"And I'm good at it!" the boy announced, nearly leaping down the stairs as Harding stood up.

"He's not _nearly_ as concerned that I'm shorter than him," Harding added with just the right amount of snark.

Dellis remained seated on the crates, smiling as Desmond proudly took Harding's hand and began the waltz she had just taught. He nodded appreciatively as the boy deftly led the dwarf through the various steps. Dellis counted in his head as he tried to follow along, but quickly lost track. Instead, he crossed his arms and leaned back, enjoying the show he'd soon be performing himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Letter from Loghain written by [MaevesChild](http://archiveofourown.org/users/MaevesChild/pseuds/MaevesChild). Adrian is a character from Dragon Age: Asunder.


	22. Reunion

"I'm sorry, Solas." As he heard himself utter the words, Dellis immediately felt them insufficient. Solas had approached him and asked for a favor, something the mage was not known for doing. Dellis owed the mage several times over, thus when he asked there was no hesitation on the Inquisitor's part, despite how strange the request seemed. And he had failed him.

Solas had asked for Dellis's help saving a friend. A friend who just happened to be a spirit. When they found it, it had been summoned and bound against its will by a group of Circle mages. Solas had said that it must have been forced to do something so against its nature that it transformed into a demon. They had not been able to save it, and Solas, who was not known for showing his emotions, appeared crushed.

"Few would so much as entertain the notion of helping a spirit," Solas replied softly after a moment. "You have my thanks, Inquisitor. Even if the outcome was... not what I had hoped."

The group remained quiet as they followed the river toward the nearby Dalish camp. With Solas's help, the Inquisition had negotiated an alliance of sorts with the Dalish of the Exalted Plains. At the very least, Dellis was sure their relationship was agreeable enough that the elves would let the small group camp with them for the night.

"Are you certain this is wise?" Cassandra asked as they began to cross the river toward the camp, keeping her voice low enough that Solas would not hear.

"Afraid they'll do elfy things to you in your sleep?" Dellis asked with a grin. He chuckled lightly as he heard the familiar sound of her annoyed huffing. Dellis didn't expect her to shove him. It was a playful shove, but Dellis found his footing more precarious than he expected. His foot slipped on one the rocks littering the riverbed, sending him tumbling down into the water. Though it was only calf deep, it was plenty to leave him drenched.

"Oops," Cassandra said, a smug smile on her face. Had the water not been exceedingly cold, Dellis might have been a bit more good natured about the situation. As it was, he uttered a disgusted noise that rivaled any Cassandra had ever made.

"You're enjoying this," he accused as they reached the far bank.

"Do you believe I would take pleasure at the misfortune of another?" she asked him.

"Yes," Dellis accused, his face still twisted in a pout. Cassandra chuckled lightly, but made no other comment.

The sun was just beginning to dip toward the horizon when the group reached the outskirts of the Dalish camp. Most of the elves acknowledged them courteously, though more than a few eyed Dellis curiously. He grumbled to himself louder than he intended, drawing amusement from both Cassandra and Varric.

"Andaran atish'an, lethallin," the Keeper greeted them.

"Greetings to you as well, Keeper Hawen," Dellis returned with a nod of his head.

"Are you quite alright?" Keeper Hawen asked, noticing that he was still dripping.

"I slipped," Dellis barked, startling everyone, including himself. "I apologize, Keeper. I'm afraid the cold water doesn't have me on my best behavior."

"Think nothing of it," the elf reassured him with a warm smile. "What can the Elvhen do for the Inquisition?"

"We only seek shelter for the night, Keeper," Dellis explained. "In the morning, we'll be on our way."

"Of course, da'len," the Keeper told him with a nod.

Dellis made a beeline for the camp fire, wasting no time in plopping down and tugging off his boots. A younger pair of Dalish hunters regarded him with astonished curiosity as he dumped what seemed to be a stream of water out of his left boot. After similarly removing and draining his right boot, Dellis tried to shrug his jacket off with negligible results. Varric chuckled from the across the fire, and though he was sure the elf wouldn't say anything, Dellis found himself relieved that Solas had wandered off.

"Do you need help?" Cassandra asked from behind him. Dellis turned to look at her, his expression still grumpy. The smile on her face suggested she had been watching him struggle with his waterlogged clothes for more than just a moment.

"Your help got me into this mess," he complained.

"It was an accident, I assure you," she claimed, kneeling down behind him and taking hold of one of his sleeves. After a quick tug, Dellis felt it give way and slide off.

"Yes, quite the accident, I'm sure," Dellis returned sarcastically, pulling his other sleeve off. He let the jacket fall into a soggy heap behind him, sighing happily as the fire began to warm the light shirt he'd worn beneath it.

"It _was_ an accident," Cassandra repeated. "Although I will not claim I was displeased with the result."

Dellis stared at her, momentarily dumbfounded. Finally he broke into his usual grin. "You're _teasing_ me!"

"I have done no such thing," she assured him.

"Either you're teasing me, or you're pleased you've gotten me to strip down to my trousers," Dellis suggested with a wink.

"Would you two get a room already?" Varric grumbled from across the fire.

"What? I-"

"Don't mind him," Dellis said, interrupting what was sure to be an angry tirade from Cassandra. "He's just jealous that we still have our senses of humor intact."

"Me? Not have a sense of humor?" Varric asked with a laugh. "You're the one sitting in a Dalish camp in your skivvies."

"Stop while you're ahead, Varric," Dellis ordered with a sigh. "I'd hate to see her throttle you again."

"She only _tried_ last time," Varric reminded him with a grin.

"Practice makes perfect," Dellis warned, giving him a serious look. Varric rolled his eyes and returned his attention to the fire. Cassandra remained silent with an oddly neutral expression on your face. "Are you alright?"

It took Cassandra a moment to realize Dellis was speaking to her. "I'm fine," she assured him.

"You're not even glaring at him," Dellis noted.

"I'm tired from the day's journey," she explained with a resigned sigh. After a moment, she stood beside the fire. "I think I shall retire for the night."

"Alright," Dellis shrugged, watching as she retreated away from the fire. He shrugged to himself slightly, moving his wet jacket closer to the fire so that it would dry.

"A word of advice, Squiggles," Varric piped up from across the fire. "You might want to tone it down, if you don't mean it."

"What are you talking about?" Dellis asked with a frown.

"I've noticed some things," Varric returned with a small smirk. "As entertaining as it is watching the Seeker fall all over herself whenever you smile at her, you're _probably_ driving her crazy."

"What, you don't think she actually cares, do you?" Dellis asked. "That's not possible. She's part of the royal family of Nevarra and I'm just-"

"The most powerful man in southern Thedas right now," Varric interrupted, giving him a knowing look. "Not that she would care about something like that, I wager."

Dellis stared into the fire as he considered the dwarf's words. He had felt differently about Cassandra since the events at Redcliffe, and his feelings of admiration had only grown since. No, they were more than admiration, and he'd known it for quite some time. He never really thought his teasing did anything more than annoy her, however, and the thought that he might have a chance with her...

"You _do_ mean it, don't you?" Varric asked with a chuckle, interrupting his pondering. "Well, slap a hat on me and call me the Divine."

"Maybe I do," Dellis admitted after a moment with a loud sigh. "It's complicated."

"No, my relationship with Bianca is complicated," Varric countered, grinning at Dellis's confused look. "Ask Hawke about her some time."

"Why do I get the feeling we're not talking about your crossbow?"

Varric chuckled. "My point is that you don't want to poke the hornet's nest unless you're willing to get stung," he explained. "Cassandra and I may not see eye to eye on most things, but it doesn't take genius to see that she's a complex woman."

"I could get you a stool," Dellis suggested with a grin.

"See, Squiggles, this is why we get along," Varric beamed. "Better get some rest before we head out."

"Best advice of the night," Dellis replied. He propped his boots up by the fire, close enough that he hoped they'd be mostly dry by morning. With one last glance over his shoulder at Cassandra, he turned his attention toward the most inviting spread of bedrolls he'd ever seen.

No sooner had he laid his head down to sleep than it seemed like morning had already arrived. He groaned in protest as the sun beat down on his face at the most bothersome angle possible. It seemed there was nothing to block it from shining directly onto his closed eyelids.

"Rise and shine, pumpkin," Varric called. Dellis opened one eye to look up at the dwarf.

"Five more minutes," he mumbled, rolling over and burying his face into the bedroll.

"I fear Varric is right," Solas added. "Should we overstay our welcome, we may offend this clan."

"Fine," Dellis grumbled, pushing the bedroll down and groggily climbing to his feet. He moved toward the remains of the campfire to collect his boots and jacket, both of which were still slightly damp. With a scowl, he tugged them on anyway.

After fully clothing himself, Dellis stood and guided the group toward the camp entrance, where Keeper Hawen was waiting.

"The sun rises to greet you, Inquisitor," Hawen addressed him as they approached. Dellis was always a bit uncomfortable around the Keeper. They'd done the clan a few favors to earn their cooperation, but the formality of their interactions was still a bit jarring.

"Good morning, Keeper," Dellis responded with a diplomatic smile. "Thank you for your hospitality. We'll be moving on shortly."

"Please, Inquisitor, hold," Hawen implored. "Your Inquisition has done much to help my clan, and we wish to repay the favor."

"Oh?" Dellis asked.

"One of our hunters will join you as an emissary," the elf offered. "She will serve as a link between your Inquisition and the people."

"That's very generous, Keeper," Dellis responded. He knew the gesture was a big one, although he wasn't sure how a Dalish elf would fare at Skyhold. Hawen gestured behind him, and when Dellis turned around to greet the hunter, he was sure his jaw must have dropped to the ground beneath them.

"Kawyn?" he asked, his eyes wide with surprise.

"Aneth ara, da'assan," the elven woman said to him with a warm smile. He could hear Solas make a sound like a cough. Dellis knew he'd be hearing about this later.

Dellis turned to the group, doing his damndest to keep a straight face. "Can you give us a moment?"

"Of course, Inquisitor," Solas told him with a smile. Dellis motioned toward the river bank, happy to see Kawyn follow.

"Did you know I was the Inquisitor when you volunteered?" Dellis asked bluntly.

"Of course I did, Dellis," she told him with a smirk. "Your cause is a good, but it would take more than a good cause to convince me to leave my clan."

"This is your clan?" Dellis returned, his brow furrowed. "What happened to your clan at Lothering?"

Kawyn's smile faded. "After you left, things were tense between Keeper Marethari and I," she explained with a frown. "Just before the Blight started, Tamlen disappeared. I... you know how close we were."

"Maker, Kawyn, I'm sorry," Dellis told her sincerely.

"We grew up together, and I thought we would end up hunters together, but..." Kawyn paused, breaking eye contact and looking out over the water. "Once he was gone, I decided it would be best to move on from my clan. Keeper Marethari did not object."

"I bet she didn't," Dellis grumbled.

"Don't blame her," Kawyn pleaded. "She was doing what she thought was best for my people. Even if she was wrong."

"This is my fault..." Dellis sighed, crossing his arms. "Ir abelas, Kawyn."

Kawyn smiled, putting a hand on his arm. "Ma melava halani suledin. Ar sulevin. Din harellan."

"Ir sulahn'nehn," Dellis replied in the bit of broken elven he could remember. "Ma serannas, ma falon."

"My bow is yours, lethallin," she told him with a smile.

There was a loud cough behind them. A hint, if he'd ever heard one. Dellis turned his attention toward his companions just in time to see Varric motioning toward the camp outskirts. "Right, I think it's best we be off," Dellis said, nodding to Kawyn. The rest of their journey back to Skyhold was painfully silent, for reasons Dellis would not understand for days.

* * *

Almost immediately upon their return from the Exalted Plains, Josephine had captured Dellis for important Inquisition business. That was to say, more lessons in etiquette and some rather pointed scolding for his failures therein. With the Grand Masquerade at the Winter Palace only days away, Josephine was in a panic making sure everything was ready.

Dellis finally managed to escape the ambassador's clutches, quickly making a beeline for the rotunda across from her office. He had wanted to give Solas some space after the events in the Exalted Plains, though he would have preferred to check on the mage sooner. When he entered, he found Solas standing at the far side of the room, examining the half-painted fresco on its walls. Dellis reconsidered for a moment, wondering if it would be best to leave him be. Perceptive as he was, Solas turned toward Dellis before he could make a decision.

"Greetings, Inquisitor," Solas said softly as Dellis entered, both of them moving toward the desk in the middle of the rotunda.

"I'm sorry I didn't come to see you earlier," Dellis apologized. "Josephine had me... detained."

"No apology is required, Inquisitor," Solas assured him.

"I thought you might want to talk about what happened with your friend," Dellis continued, carefully watching Solas's reaction.

"I thank you for your concern, but it is not necessary," Solas told him with a weak smile. "I was impressed with your grasp of the elven language. Your pronunciation could use practice, but most humans would not be able to hold a conversation with one of the Dalish."

 _Here it comes_. "Ah, yes, well..." Dellis rubbed the back of his neck as he considered the best way to explain. "I knew a Dalish elf when I was young."

"You were acquainted with our new Dalish emissary," Solas clarified for him, smiling slightly. "She spoke to you as if you were one of the people, rather than an outsider."

Dellis sighed in defeat. "She and I were... friends, I suppose."

"Interesting," Solas mused. "Why did she befriend you?"

"Apparently, she thought I was fascinating," Dellis chuckled. "When I was a boy, I decided to help the couple that took me in by hunting game for them. I grabbed one of the farmer's bows, thinking, 'How hard could it possibly be?'" Dellis smiled as he remembered. "I was a pitiful sight. Lost most of my arrows to the bushes.

"Turns out a boy of thirteen can't just pick up a bow and be a hunter. I realized this when the wolves showed up," Dellis continued. "Kawyn appeared from the trees and drove them off before I even knew they were there."

Solas watched patiently as he spoke, making no move to interrupt. Dellis could see that he was finding the story intriguing, at the least, and his attention had not wavered in the slightest.

"At first when I saw her I was terrified, but she lowered her bow and said hello," Dellis explained. "We were taught to fear the Dalish, since they hated us, but Kawyn smiled at me and told me I did well, for a child. Of course at the time I didn't understand that when she said child, she meant a child."

"Dalish children learn vir adahlen early in their youth," Solas told him.

"I learned that quickly," Dellis agreed. "She was only ten, but could already outshoot anyone in Lothering. She seemed curious about me, probably since I hadn't threatened her, or called her a knife-ear. She offered to help me in exchange for information about the village."

"A child curious about the world outside Dalish culture," Solas commented. "Rare."

"Yes, and her keeper was none too happy when we were discovered. We met secretly for, Maker, I guess about four years before we were found out by one of the other Dalish hunters," Dellis explained. "The keeper was furious, claiming my knowledge of their clan placed them in great danger. It was everything Kawyn could do to convince her that I was harmless.

"I knew that if I stayed in Lothering, tensions between the Dalish and the humans would escalate. I left, and made sure the Dalish knew of it." Dellis paused, taking a deep breath. "Part of me always regretted leaving, but I suppose maybe the Maker put that in motion, too."

Solas chuckled at the comment. "I do not believe I will ever understand the human fascination with the concept of divine providence."

Dellis shrugged with a smile. "It's easier than trying to sort complicated things out in your head," he told the mage.

"I suppose it would be an easy and comforting conclusion to draw," Solas agreed, though his tone still suggested he thought it to be nonsense. "Thank you, Inquisitor, for indulging my curiosity."

"You're not going to have a problem with her being here, are you?" Dellis asked. Solas cocked his head slightly, wordlessly questioning the implication. "I know you're not overly fond of the Dalish."

"I would not take offense to the presence of one of the Dalish at Skyhold," Solas assured him. "Besides, based on your description, it seems as though your friend and I may have more in common that I might have otherwise thought."

"Glad to hear it," Dellis said with a grin. "No gossiping about me though, Solas."

The mage smiled. "It would not be in my nature, I assure you."

* * *

"Maker's breath, is that Kawyn?"

Dellis turned toward the familiar voice, smiling as he saw Hawke approach him. "She turned up in the Dalish camp in the Exalted Plains," he explained, picking up two mugs from the bar. "Her Keeper offered her to the Inquisition as an emissary."

"An appointment I expect she volunteered for," Hawke told him with a grin. "Perhaps I should write Merrill and invite her for a reunion."

Dellis raised an eyebrow. "You knew the clan's First?"

"Who, Merrill?" Hawke asked. "She traveled with me for ten years. Didn't I mention that?"

"Must have slipped your mind," Dellis replied flatly. He handed one of the drinks to her and waved for a replacement. "Why don't you sit with us?"

"I suppose I could," Hawke shrugged. "Are you sure it wouldn't be awkward for her, though?"

"I'm sure I mentioned you once or twice," Dellis told her. He grabbed the newly arrived mug of ale and guided Hawke to the table where Kawyn waited for them. "Kawyn, this is Marian Hawke. She was a friend from Lothering."

"I remember the Hawkes," Kawyn announced with a smile. "Are you the mage?"

Hawke was visibly taken aback by the question. "No, that was my sister Bethany. But, how...? How did you know she was a mage?"

"Kawyn found us all fascinating," Dellis explained before Kawyn could answer. "She saw things the other townsfolk wouldn't have, I'm sure."

"That's a bit creepy," Hawke mumbled after a moment. Kawyn seemed to relax when Dellis laughed at the comment. "I certainly hope she wasn't watching _other_   things."

Hawke yelped and jumped in her chair slightly as Dellis kicked her under the table. Kawyn looked back and forth between the two of them, clearly confused. "Did I miss something?"

"Nothing," Hawke assured her with a brazen smirk. "So, are you adjusting well to Skyhold?"

"Yes, better than expected," Kawyn told her with a nod. "The others here have been very accommodating. More so than I anticipated."

"She's been drafted by Leliana," Dellis added. He was less than thrilled with the arrangement, but understood why a Dalish elf would be an appealing addition to the Inquisition's agents. "At the very least, she won't be joining us at Halamshiral. The vallaslin would be a dead giveaway that she didn't belong."

"Well then, I suppose while you're off dancing, Kawyn and I shall have to become better acquainted," Hawke suggested with a small wink. Kawyn grinned, obviously taking the hint.

"Come on, ladies," Dellis pleaded. "Don't embarrass me too much, would you?"

"Of course not, Inquisitor," Hawke promised with a healthy layer of sarcasm. "We wouldn't want to mar your perfect reputation, would we?"

Dellis rolled his eyes with a loud sigh. "I'm keeping an eye on you two until the minute I leave Skyhold."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elven translations:
> 
> Ir abelas = I'm sorry  
> Ma melava halani suledin. Ar sulevin. Din harellan. = You helped me to endure. I have purpose. I am not a traitor.  
> Ir sulahn'nehn. Ma serannas, ma falon. = I'm glad. Thank you, my friend.  
> vir adahlen = way of the forest


	23. With Passion'd Breath

All the time in the world could not have prepared Dellis for the sight of the Winter Palace. He had seen luxury in Ferelden, but nothing could compare to the finery of Orlais. Everything seemed to be trimmed in gold, from the chandeliers to the luxurious carpets that covered each of the palace's many stairs. Even the epaulettes of Dellis's incredibly uncomfortable white dress uniform were adorned with golden embroidery.

"Would you look at this cheese plate?" Dorian raved, picking up a chunk from the serving platter on the table beside them. "They say this one tastes of sorrow."

"I'd rather have cheese that tastes of sorrow than of mold," Dellis countered with a small grin. "This party is a bit fancier than I'm used to."

"Indeed, the Oresians do love their parties," Dorian agreed with a smile. "You could almost mistake this for a soiree in the Imperium. Fewer sacrificial slaves and less blood magic, though."

"Hopefully," Dellis added. "The night is still young."

"See, this is why we get along," Dorian replied with a wink.

"Have you seen Cassandra?" Dellis asked after a moment.

"Thankfully not since we arrived," Dorian replied. "If I'd had to suffer one more of her strategy sessions I daresay I'd have died of boredom."

Dellis rubbed a hand along his jaw, glancing around the courtyard. The trip from Skyhold to Halamshiral was long enough that it was impractical to make the journey the same day of the masquerade, so the group had arranged to arrive several days in advance. Empress Celene had graciously offered quarters in the guest wing, allowing the Inquisition's forces a safe staging ground.

As soon as they had settled, Josephine and Leliana had dragged Dellis off for even more preparation. That was the last he had seen of Cassandra. He had begun to wonder if she had disappeared entirely, though he was certain he would have seen Josephine on the war path had that been the case. And so he searched the room for her. Again. For what seemed like the hundredth time.

"If you find someone tall, dark, and handsome, send him my way."

"What?" Dellis asked, his attention suddenly snapping back to Dorian.

"You're looking for Cassandra, no?" the mage asked, his mustache quirking slightly as he smiled.

"I haven't seen her since yesterday," Dellis explained. "I'm trying to spare her a tongue lashing from the Spymaster."

"Yes, I'm certain that's the tongue lashing you had in mind," Dorian replied with a heavy dose of sarcasm, prompting a grunt of annoyance from Dellis. "Maker preserve me, you're even starting to _sound_ just like her."

"Stay out of trouble," Dellis warned with a pointed finger. Dorian just smiled and made a crossing motion over his chest.

Dellis moved toward the ballroom, knowing he would be most likely to find Leliana and Josephine there. As he moved through the doorway, he heard a sound over his shoulder.

"Inquisitor, if I may," Vivienne called as Dellis turned toward her voice. Dellis nearly smirked as his eyes fell on the horned hat that he had once been accustomed to seeing her wear. It had been some time since she had donned it, however, and Dellis had forgotten how odd it appeared. He looked up at her expectantly, prompting a smile. "You haven't embarrassed yourself as much as I feared. Well done, my dear."

"Thanks, I think," Dellis returned with a light chuckle. "It hasn't been as hard as I expected, to be perfectly honest."

"Don't forget that their acceptance of your adorable bumbling ways is just as much a part of the Game as anything else," she reminded him. Dellis frowned, but held his tongue. He had to remind himself that this was probably as close as he was going to get to a compliment from the Iron Lady.

"I don't understand what the fascination is with the masks," Dellis commented after a tense moment of silence.

"We all wear masks, my dear. Not just the people in Orlais," Vivienne explained. "By giving every aspect of the self its own separate face, the Orlesians believe they can be their truest selves unmasked."

"Why am I not wearing one, then?" Dellis asked.

"Why do you think, my dear?" Vivienne chuckled. "By not wearing a mask, you are the unknown."

"So the decision not to mask me is just another part of the Game then?" Dellis asked, scratching the back of his head. He was glad he hadn't been involved in the planning. "You really do enjoy this nonsense, don't you?"

"This is the Game, Inquisitor," she laughed. "Of course I enjoy it. If I didn't, I'd be dead by now."

"Well, I'm glad _someone_ here does." Dellis risked a glance beyond her. "Have you seen Cassandra?" Dellis paused, looking around the room again. "Or Leliana?"

"Cassandra is probably hiding, lest someone actually see her in her dress," Vivienne commented. "Leliana was here not a moment ago. I can't imagine where she got off to so quietly."

"She is the Spymaster," Dellis reminded her. "I'll have a look around. I'm sure you're right that she can't have gotten far."

Dellis weaved through the crowd, stopping what seemed to be every ten feet to exchange pleasantries with some Orlesian noble or another. After elbowing his way through what seemed like an endless crowd, Dellis finally found himself face to face with Commander Cullen.

"Cullen, I have never been so happy to see you in my entire life," Dellis sighed in relief.

"And I you, Inquisitor." The Commander seemed just as uncomfortable as he did. It didn't take long for Dellis to notice that the crowd surrounding Cullen seemed rather fixated on him.

"Cullen, who are all these people?" Dellis asked, a grin springing to his face.

"I don't know," Cullen grumbled. "But they won't leave me alone."

"Not enjoying yourself, then?" Dellis asked.

"At this point, the headache I'm developing is preferable to the company," Cullen explained, rubbing his temples.

"But they look so friendly," Dellis noted, trying to suppress his smile. Cullen looked less than amused.

"I'm trying to keep my eyes open for trouble, but these _people_ are making it very difficult."

"Sorry I said anything," Dellis chuckled. "By the way, have you seen-"

Just as the words were about to escape his lips, he saw her. She was dressed in a sleeveless red gown, trimmed in white, that seemed to perfectly follow each and every curve of her body. The skirt opened in the front to reveal pure white fabric beneath, trimmed with red embroidery that reminded him of the Chantry's sunburst logo. The hem trailed slightly behind her as she moved through the crowd.

"D-did you just grab my behind?"

Dellis's head was jarred back toward Cullen, who seemed mortified. One of the Orlesian nobles appeared to be deep into an apology. When Dellis turned back to the crowd, Cassandra was nowhere to be seen. He sighed and wandered back toward the throngs of nobles, leaving Cullen to deal with his admirers on his own.

* * *

It had taken longer than anticipated, but Leliana had finally managed to slip into the vestibule, unseen by the majority of the nobles. For the briefest of moments, Leliana wished she had worn something more practical. The thought faded as her eyes fell on her shoes, a smile returning to her face. She quickly moved to the side of the room to meet her agent.

"Lady Nightingale," the man greeted her quietly. "I've received reports from several of our agents. It seems Ambassador Briala is using the servants as her eyes and ears in the palace."

"Ambassador Briala?" Leliana asked thoughtfully. "Have our agents uncovered anything to suggest she might be behind the assassination attempt?"

"Not yet," the man explained, "though they have found some startling evidence against Gaspard."

"Well, well, what have we here?" a new voice boomed from beyond them. Leliana recognized the voice immediately, and yet her head turned toward the stairs anyway.

"Morrigan. I see you took my advice on the dress," Leliana smiled to her previous traveling companion.

"'Tis foolish to discard sound advice," Morrigan replied, slowly descending the stairs. She was dressed in a deep maroon velvet, cut almost as low in the front as Leliana's own dress. It was adorned with feathers and cold metal clasps, something Leliana would have advised against, but it added to the exotic mystique she knew the mage was looking for. The dress blossomed into a large, black hoop skirt, and the ensemble was completed by a tasteful pair of black leather boots. Practical, yet fashionable. Nothing like the fur-lined monstrosities Leliana had become accustomed to during her travels across Ferelden.

"Hold a moment, Garder," Leliana ordered her agent. She turned her attention back to the mage, who now approached the two. "How exactly were you fortunate enough to find yourself as the Empress's arcane advisor?"

"Luck, perhaps. It matters not," Morrigan returned, motioning for the Spymaster to follow her in a turn about the vestibule. "I have seen your people scurrying about in every dark corner of the palace."

Leliana eyed the dark-haired mage suspiciously. "What makes you believe they are _my_ people?"

"Do not insult my intelligence, Leliana," Morrigan chided. "Surely we have been acquainted long enough to be plain with one another."

"Very well," Leliana admitted stubbornly.

"I believe you and I hunt the same prey," Morrigan continued. "Recently I found, and killed, an unwelcome guest within these very halls. An agent of Tevinter."

"You killed him?" Leliana asked, snorting in disgust. "How typical of you. Strike first, ask questions later, no?"

"I would not have slain the man on sight, had he not attacked me first," Morrigan explained, rolling her eyes. "I did not know from whence he came until after the battle, and regret only that I could not capture him alive."

"Even had you known him to be Tevinter?" Leliana asked.

"What intentions the Imperium has here I suspect you know far better than I," Morrigan returned. She glanced around them to ensure no one was listening in. "His personal effects spoke of the servant's quarters. I suggest you focus your search there."

Leliana watched the mage for a moment before finally speaking. "Thank you, Morrigan," Leliana told her. "Be on your guard. The Venatori seek Celene's life."

"I must return to her, lest she remain unprotected too long," Morrigan explained. "Before I take my leave, however... how is he?"

The "he" Morrigan spoke of, Leliana knew, could be none other than the Warden. "He searches for a cure for the Blight," Leliana explained. "I have not had a letter from him in some time, but the last I received indicated he was well, and making progress."

"'Tis good to hear," Morrigan said with a small smile. "Thank you, Leliana. I wish you well."

As Morrigan disappeared into the ballroom, Leliana returned to her agent. "Garder, have your men continue their search in the servant's quarters."

* * *

The ballroom was thick with activity as Dellis finally managed to sneak away from Empress Celene and the crowd that surrounded her. A hundred things swam through his brain, including the fact that Josephine had apparently manufactured a middle name for him. However he was certain no one would remember _his_ middle name as they tried to remember all four of Cassandra's. Even Dellis was having trouble remembering them, and he was making a concerted effort to commit them to memory.

Dellis was determined not to let Cassandra escape this time. He had hoped that she had not managed to retreat while he had been occupied by the royal entourage, but he was reasonably happy to find that she seemed to have been detained herself. She stood across the room, looking increasingly annoyed as one of the nobles talked her ear off. That was something Dellis could help with.

"Excuse me, your Lordship," Dellis interrupted. Both Cassandra and the noble turned toward his voice. With half her face covered in a mask, Dellis couldn't quite tell what Cassandra's reaction to the interruption was. She didn't seem any _more_ annoyed than before, at the very least.

"Inquisitor," the noble greeted him, bowing his head slightly.

"My apologies for the interruption, my Lord, but may I borrow the Seeker?" Dellis asked, his hands clasped behind his back in the most formal gesture he could muster. "Important Inquisition business has just been brought to my attention, and it simply wouldn't do to leave the Right Hand of the Divine in the dark."

"Of course, Inquisitor," the man said. Dellis turned to Cassandra and held out a gloved hand. She hesitated a moment, but eventually reached out to take it.

"My apologies for not rescuing you sooner," Dellis told her as they walked away. "I was indisposed myself."

"I have never heard so much about soup in my entire life," Cassandra complained with a heavy sigh.

"I'm glad you're talking to me now," Dellis smiled. "It seemed as though you'd been avoiding me for the last few days."

"What makes you think that?" Cassandra asked after a moment.

"Mostly the not speaking part," Dellis replied with a grin. "What say we have a dance?"

"A dance?" Cassandra repeated. "What purpose would that serve?"

"We're supposed to be distracting everyone so Leliana's people can do their thing," Dellis explained. "What better distraction than the Right Hand of the Divine dancing with the Inquisitor?" He studied her expression carefully as she seemed to consider the suggestion. "I suppose I could always dance with the Grand Duchess instead."

"Fine, you've made your point," she sighed, allowing him to lead her to the dance floor. Dellis could tell from her expression that she was less than pleased, but it didn't stop him from smiling like an idiot. He was happy the music had slowed to a simple waltz. As much practicing as he'd done, he wasn't keen on the idea of embarrassing himself in front of Cassandra.

"So, why _have_ you been avoiding me?" Dellis repeated.

"We have all been busy planning for Halamshiral," Cassandra explained. "Besides, I did not wish to be in your way."

"In my way?" Dellis asked with a frown. Even with the mask, it wasn't difficult to see the blush rise in her face. Dellis felt his eyebrows rise in surprise. "Are you talking about Kawyn?"

"It seemed best to give you space," Cassandra explained, hanging her head slightly to avoid eye contact.

"She's just a friend," Dellis assured her with a chuckle. "I haven't seen her in over ten years."

Cassandra shifted uncomfortably in his arms, missing a few steps as they continued to dance in silence. Dellis did his best not to seem pleased by what seemed to be an obvious layer of jealousy. He realized now that while Solas had understood everything the two had said at the Dalish camp, all Cassandra would have known was that the two were speaking together in a language she hadn't even realized he understood, much less spoke. Considering he had told her about his relationship with Kawyn, it all made sense now.

"So, have you tried the cheese?" Dellis asked with a grin. "Dorian says it tastes of sorrow."

"Are you changing the subject for my benefit?" Cassandra asked, a hint of a smile playing across her face.

"I might be," Dellis admitted, continuing to smile. "If you prefer, we could have a discussion on the merits of smut in serial-based literature."

"You're terrible," she told him with a chuckle.

"I suppose we could discuss swordsmanship," Dellis suggested, "although I feel like we're both rather poorly dressed for it."

"You might be surprised what you can do with a few modifications," Cassandra returned, glancing down at the skirt of her dress. Dellis found himself doing the same.

"Do you mean to tell me that you've planned out how to make this dress battle ready?" Dellis asked with a laugh.

"If it were my choice, I would have been here in armor," Cassandra reminded him. "It is wise to be prepared for the unexpected."

"Or the expected, as the case may be." Dellis glanced over his shoulder toward where Celene would-be. A dark-haired woman he hadn't seen before stood beside the Empress. He watched her scan the crowd and found himself wondering if she was Celene's bodyguard. Awfully well dressed for a bodyguard. Then again, there was Cassandra...

"I admit, I am impressed," she told him as their dance continued.

"I clean up rather nicely, don't I?" he asked her with a grin. "I was a little apprehensive when Josie said I'd wearing all white, but-"

"I was referring to your dancing," Cassandra interrupted impatiently.

Dellis chuckled lightly. "Yes, I'm rather surprised I haven't stepped on your feet yet. Scuffing your shoes would be a crime against fashion."

Cassandra groaned in disgust and moved to speak, but Dellis quickly lifted his hand from her back and placed his fingers on her lips to silence her. "Did you hear that?" he whispered before she could protest.

His eyes scanned the crowd, looking for the source of the noise. It was a scraping sound that Dellis had come to recognize as a blade sliding out of a sheath. His eyes barely had time to focus when a flash of metal blurred his vision. Dellis pushed Cassandra back and ducked out of the way of the blade. He kicked out with his left leg, catching the would be assassin in the gut and sending him sprawling backward.

"Get to Celene!" Dellis barked. Cassandra visibly faltered, but after a stern glance from Dellis, she quickly kicked off her shoes and tore off toward the Empress. Dellis had just enough time to duck again before nearly getting a face full of steel.

Dellis finally focused his attention on his attacker. The man was masked, just as all the rest of the nobles were. He stood a dozen feet away, gripping the blade and waiting for the best opportunity to strike. Suddenly Dellis regretted being completely unarmed. They had not thought the Venatori brave enough to attack in such a straightforward manner. Brazenly attacking in front of all the court and Celene's imperial guard would have been foolish, or so they had thought. Apparently the Venatori disagreed.

The assassin leapt forward, bringing the blade to bare in a vicious attack. Dellis quickly slid forward and to the side, burying his right shoulder in the man's chest and grabbing the Venatori's wrist with his left hand. Dellis twisted as hard as he could, satisfied to hear a cry of pain and a clatter as the dagger dropped to the floor.

Loud screaming told Dellis that the nobles had begun to scatter. A quick glance around told him that similar attacks had broken out throughout the ballroom, and possibly the entire Winter Palace itself. A quick jab to the throat left the Venatori assassin crumpled up in a pile of limbs on the floor, but Dellis's victory was short lived. With a grunt and a sharp pain he was thrown back into the wall behind him, his arms wrapped around another Venatori attacker. Dellis swung out with his elbow, catching the man in the ear and causing him to stumble backward.

Dellis gritted his teeth as he reached a hand out to cover his ribs. His fingertips felt wet with blood, and though the wound itself was probably not lethal, the disadvantage it gave him very well could be.

As the Venatori reared back for another attack, Dellis winced and raised his arm defensively. The man simply stood there, knife raised, as if frozen. Suddenly the Venatori erupted into flames. He screamed and clawed at his burning clothes in vain, and when he finally fell lifelessly to the marble floor below, Dellis breathed a sigh of relief to see Vivienne standing behind him.

"We can't take you anywhere, now can we?" Vivienne chided, erecting a barrier around the two of them as she moved to inspect his wound. Surrounded by the relative safety of Vivienne's magic, Dellis allowed himself to slide to a sitting position on the floor.

"What about Celene?" he groaned as Vivienne kneeled next to him.

"You leave her to Cassandra," Vivienne ordered, gently pulling his hand away from his injury. The blood had seeped quickly into the thick fabric of the uniform, and what had once been a pristine white was now stained almost black. As she placed her hand over the wound, the space below her palm glowed a brilliant gold. Dellis could feel a tingling sensation as she began to heal him. He cringed slightly as she quickly reached out with her free hand to immolate another advancing Venatori.

"I need to get up and help," Dellis muttered, trying to push himself to his feet.

"You're not going anywhere, my dear," Vivienne told him, putting a surprisingly firm hand on his shoulder to keep him seated. "Relax and let us take care of this. We shall yet win the day."

* * *

Dellis grunted slightly as he stretched under the silken Orlesian sheets of his bed. Silk sheets. Why were there silk sheets? His eyes snapped open, quickly surveying the room. It didn't take him long to realize he was still at the Winter Palace. Try as he might, he couldn't quite remember how the battle had ended.

"Tis good to see you awake rather than thrashing about in your sleep." Dellis's eyes followed the sound of the unfamiliar voice. Sitting across the room was a dark-haired woman he had seen before. He recognized her as the woman he suspected might have been Celene's bodyguard.

"Who are you?" Dellis asked, wincing slightly as he pushed himself into a sitting position.

"I am Morrigan, known to some as Celene's advisor on all things occult," the woman explained.

"Is Cassandra alright?" That was certainly not the question Dellis had intended to ask.

"I see your priorities are in order," Morrigan returned with a snort. "Your Seeker performed admirably, although had I been in her position, I might have taken better care of my gown."

Dellis felt a grin spread across his face. "I imagine slinging spells in a ball gown is a bit easier than martial combat."

Morrigan raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps."

"I'm sorry, I meant to ask how the Empress fared," Dellis clarified. "Is she alright?"

"Your Inquisition did a splendid job protecting Celene," Morrigan confirmed. "Without Cassandra's help and Leliana's warning, she surely would have perished at her cousin's hand."

"You mean Gaspard was behind this?" Dellis asked.

"Alas, no," Morrigan replied. "His sister, Grand Duchess Florianne, was the culprit. A shame, really..."

"You sound disappointed," Dellis pointed out.

"Perhaps I am," Morrigan agreed. "What guile to be wasted on a creature such as she... Ah, but then her folly was her undoing, was it not?"

"Why am I still here?" Dellis finally asked.

"Your wounds proved more serious than your Circle mage companion first believed," Morrigan explained, the words dripping with contempt. "It was decided that the rest of the Inquisition forces would return to Skyhold, and I would be tasked with escorting you back once your condition stabilized, which it has."

"You?" Dellis asked. "Why you?"

"By imperial decree, I have been named liaison to the Inquisition," Morrigan explained. "Celene wishes to offer you any and all aid, including mine. Congratulations."

"Are you congratulating me on winning Celene's favor, or on acquiring you?" Dellis asked.

Morrigan snorted in disgust. "I am not a _thing_ which can be acquired, Inquisitor."

"I apologize. I meant no offense." Dellis pushed the sheets away and swung his legs over the side of the bed, taking a moment to catch his breath.

"You remind me of someone," Morrigan muttered as Dellis moved to retrieve one of his boots.

"Is that good or bad?" Dellis asked, his brow furrowed as he tugged it on.

"T'would be best if you did _not_ remind me of this person," Morrigan told him with a roll of her eyes.

"I'll try not to then," Dellis assured her. "Although you haven't give me much to go on."

"Do not speak of Grey Wardens, cheese, or dogs."

"You just described all of the good things about my home," Dellis told her with a frown. "Well, except the Grey Warden part."

"Another Fereldan," Morrigan breathed in exasperation. "I am being punished for something, surely."

"I promise to do my very best to pretend to be Orlesian for our entire trip to Skyhold," Dellis promised as he fumbled with the laces. "I think if Cassandra can put up with me, you'll be fine."

"We shall see, Inquisitor."

"We leave as soon as I find my other boot," Dellis told her with a grin. "I've had quite enough of Halamshiral."


	24. A Warden is a Promise

Morrigan and Dellis had made the trip from Halamshiral back to Skyhold by horse. The trip itself had been awkwardly sparse in conversation, more because Dellis wasn't sure what to say than that Morrigan found his company annoying. He wasn't sure if she did or not, but if she did she was polite enough not to say so.

The stable boy was waiting for them when they arrived. The boy took the horses toward the barn, allowing the two to enter the keep undetained. Dellis knew that if he didn't announce himself to Josephine, he'd never hear the end of it. Without further delay, Dellis headed for her office. Somewhere along the way, Morrigan disappeared.

"Inquisitor, how long have you been back?" Josephine exclaimed, nearly jumping out of her seat as Dellis stepped through the door.

"I quite literally _just_ rode in," Dellis promised, moving toward her desk quickly enough that he hoped she'd simply sit back down. "I take it things went amiss without me?"

"It seems we never really noticed just how much you do around here," Josephine told him with a smile. "But before you run off, I need your signature here." Josephine pointed to a document on her desk.

"What is it?" Dellis asked, picking it up and skimming through its contents.

"A missive from the College of Clerics," Josephine explained as Dellis continued to stare at the words on the sheet. "I told the Revered Mother that brought it that it would be quite impossible to spare Leliana and Cassandra from their duties, but she insisted-"

"They're candidates for Divine?" Dellis sputtered, interrupting the ambassador. He stared at the piece of parchment, his eyes barely moving from the flowing script.

"Yes, the Revered Mother was quite insistent that she leave with both of them prior to your arrival," Josephine told him. "I explained that they were indispensable to the Inquisition, but I fear the answer will not rest easy with the clerics unless it comes from your hand."

"So you've refused?" Dellis asked, finally breaking away from the parchment to look at her.

"Naturally," Josephine assured him, frowning slightly. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, of course," he replied, looking back down at the missive. Dellis set it down on the desk and picked up Josephine's quill. After dipping it in the inkwell, he scrawled the most legible signature he could manage. He had to resist the urge to drop the quill and run out of the office in search of Cassandra.

"I am glad to see you are mostly recovered," Josephine continued as she scooped up the document. "Things got a bit hectic after Grand Duchess Florianne attacked Celene herself."

"I heard she didn't survive the encounter," Dellis remarked. Morrigan had related the battle to him on their trip back from the Winter Palace. It had been rather gruesome.

"It is indeed regrettable," Josephine agreed. "Speaking of the Grand Duchess's unfortunate demise-"

Before Josephine could finish her sentence, a young man burst into the office holding a small slip of vellum. He paused as he saw the Inquisitor and the ambassador staring at him. "Uh, Inquisitor. I hadn't realized you were back."

"Edmund, was it?" Dellis asked, making note of the young man's smile at hearing his own name.

"Yes, ser," the man replied. "I'm one of Leliana's."

"What is it you need?" Josephine asked, a hint of impatience in her usually even tone. "We are very busy."

"Yes, mum, of course." Edmund stepped forward and handed Dellis the piece of parchment. "The spymaster has confirmed that Blackwall is gone."

"What do you mean he's gone?" Dellis asked, growling slightly as he looked over the note. It appeared to be from one of Leliana's reports, though it was crumpled slightly, as if having been discarded.

"When we noticed Warden Blackwall had disappeared, this was all we found in his quarters," Edmund explained. "It was missing from last week's reports."

"Blast it," Dellis growled under his breath. The report spoke of a soldier that was to be hanged for the murder of an Orlesian general on his captain's orders. There was no obvious reason that a Grey Warden would be interested in imperial politics. Not unless he was somehow involved. The report indicated that the captain, a man named Thom Rainier, was still wanted for his part in the crimes.

Dellis felt his fists ball up in anger. All he wanted to do was find Cassandra and convince her not to become Divine. Any argument would do. Whatever it took. But if his suspicions about Blackwall were correct, then he didn't have any time to waste.

"I'm going to find him," Dellis finally announced, much to Josephine's surprise.

"Shall I summon the war council?" Josephine asked as Dellis stuffed the report in his pocket.

"No need. I'll be traveling alone," he explained. "Let the others know I've gone to Lydes and _don't_ let either of them do anything foolish while I'm gone."

"Such as volunteer for the Sunburst Throne?" Josephine asked with a hint of a smile.

"Definitely not _that_."

* * *

Being on the Fereldan side of the Waking Sea, Lydes was not quite the glittering gem that was Val Royeaux. Dellis had ridden through several times on his way to the heart of Orlais, but had never stopped to appreciate the scenery. Today would be no different.

Dellis quickly tied up his horse and burst into the guard captain's office unannounced. The captain sprang to his feet, instantly recognizing him as Inquisitor. "Your Worship, to what do we owe this honor?"

"I'm looking for one of my companions," Dellis explained impatiently. "He's tall, with a bushy black beard. He'd be soft spoken."

"Don't know about the soft spoken part, but it sounds like you're looking for Thom Rainier."

Dellis paused for a moment, taking in the accusation. He had suspected it the moment he'd seen the stolen report. It would explain everything. Why he never spoke of his past, why he never complained of hearing the Calling, why he never seemed to be able to warn them any of the numerous times they had encountered darkspawn...

"Did he say that was his name?" Dellis finally asked.

"He waltzed right into town just as we were about to hang that traitor Mornay," the captain explained. "The mongrel spoke up and said Mornay was innocent. That he was just following orders. When I told him to find me the man who gave the order, he looked me dead in the eye and said 'I did.'"

"Can I speak with him?" Dellis asked. The captain nodded, gesturing toward the cellar. As Dellis descended the stairs, he could see that they led to the dungeon. Most of the cells were empty, but at the back he could see a familiar silhouette.

Blackwall looked up as Dellis approached, surprise clear on his face. "Inquisitor, what are you doing here?"

"I'm here to find _you_ , Blackwall," Dellis explained, feeling his jaw set in anger. "Or should I say Thom Rainier?"

Blackwall sighed heavily. "I didn't kill him, if that's what you think."

"I don't know _what_ to think," Dellis returned. "I'd been back in Skyhold ten minutes when I found out you'd run off without a word. And here you are chained like a common criminal. Who _are_ you?"

"I was a captain in the Orlesian army. Well-regarded, respected, but it wasn't enough." Another sigh escaped Blackwall's mouth, causing his shackles to clank as his shoulder rose and fell. "I was paid by a chevalier, Robert Chapuis, to assassinate an Orlesian general. Ser Robert believed that Grand Duke Gaspard was the rightful ruler of Orlais and would eventually take the throne. He thought that by eliminating one of Celene's loyal supporters, he might endear himself to the true emperor."

"I'm sure the gold had nothing to do with it," Dellis mumbled.

"The coin was enough to set me up for a good long while," Blackwall agreed. "I took it without a second thought. By the time Ser Robert's involvement was uncovered, I was long gone. Of course, the Grand Duke disavowed any knowledge of the act, and publicly condemned it."

"And Chapuis?"

"Robert killed himself," Blackwall explained. "Poison in his wine. Another victim of the Great Game."

"How did you get your men to go along with this charade?" Dellis asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I told them it was an important mission," Blackwall shrugged. "They trusted me without question, just as your men trust you."

"I don't order _my_ men to murder people," Dellis returned, angry at the comparison. "I remember hearing about Callier when Josephine was briefing me on the civil war. He was murdered, _with his family_. You murdered _children!_ "

"I didn't know they would be traveling with him," Blackwall insisted. "I assumed only soldiers, armed guards."

"You think that excuses your conduct?" Dellis growled. "You could have called it off. You could have reigned in your men."

"They had been told to eliminate _everyone_ ," Blackwall explained. "They'd seen war. They thought they were defending their country."

"Any war that demands the blood of innocent children is fought by beasts, not men," Dellis spat. "You deserve to rot there in that cell until the day they hang you."

Dellis had tromped halfway up the stairs before he stopped. He sighed deeply and hung his head. It could have been him in that cell. It _had_ been him in that cell. Blackwall was surprised to see him when he reappeared in front of the metal bars.

"You came back," the older man said, looking downright perplexed.

"I have no right to judge you," Dellis explained solemnly. "We both made bad choices, but did the right thing when it counted."

"Warden Blackwall wanted to recruit me, but we were ambushed by darkspawn on the way to Val Chevin," Blackwall explained. "He took the blow for me. I might have continued on to the Wardens, but there was no proof that I hadn't killed him myself. So Rainier died, and Blackwall lived."

"So you just went on living in his name?" Dellis asked.

"The Wardens have the right of it," Blackwall explained. "All a Warden is is a promise. To protect others, even at the cost of your own life. That's a life worth living."

"So instead of facing your fate, you continued Warden Blackwall's work."

"It was wrong. I know that." Blackwall hung his head. "I deserve to be here. I'm just glad I could do some good in this world while I pretended to be a better man."

"I think at some point you stopped pretending, Thom," Dellis told him with a hint of a smile. With little more than a nod, Dellis turned and headed back up the stairs.

"Piece of work, isn't he?" the guard captain asked as Dellis stopped in front of his desk.

"I want him released into my care as Inquisitor," Dellis ordered.

"Excuse me?" the captained asked, flabbergasted. "With all due respect, your Worship, I can't just-"

"I'll take full responsibility," Dellis assured him. "The Inquisition will fairly judge Thom Rainier and assign any fitting punishment. Have him brought out front as soon as you can." Dellis paused, thinking for a moment. "I'll also need a second horse."

* * *

Cassandra thumbed through the pages of the newest book in her collection. It was a collection of poems gifted to her by Empress Celene after saving her life at the Winter Palace. It was completely in Orlesian, which gave her the added challenge of translating it. Her Orlesian was admittedly quite rusty. She looked up as she heard the creaking sound of someone ascending the stairs, pleased to see that it Dellis.

"Ah, good, I hoped I'd find you here," he announced as he rounded the top of the stairs.

"When did you return?" Cassandra asked, closing the book and setting it down on the table. She was trying very hard to suppress the smile that threatened to appear on her face. She hadn't seen Dellis in over a week since they had left the Winter Palace, and he had immediately set out for Lydes the moment he had returned.

"Just a few minutes ago," he told her with a smile.

"So you have returned with Blackwall, then?" she asked, standing from the table and moving to meet him.

"Funny thing, that," Dellis told her with a chuckle. "As it turns out, Blackwall is dead."

" _What?_ " Cassandra exclaimed, taking a step backward.

"Warden Blackwall," Dellis quickly corrected. "I mean, the _real_ Warden Blackwall."

"What are you talking about?" Cassandra asked, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes at him.

"It turns out the real Blackwall was slain in a darkspawn raid," Dellis explained. "The man travelling with us assumed his identity after his death. His name is Thom Rainier, he's-"

"A captain in the imperial army," Cassandra finished, her face twisting in disdain. "His treason is infamous."

"Right then," Dellis replied, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, he's back now. So we can all move on with our lives."

"You freed him after what he has done?" she asked, feeling the heat of anger rising in her face. "He ordered the murder of a general and his entire family, Dellis. This man deserves no quarter, especially not from the Inquisition."

"Are you still angry at me as well?" Dellis asked with a frown.

"You did not actually kill anyone," Cassandra reminded him.

"No, because I had someone to stop me," Dellis told her. "Blackwall had no one, and he'll pay for his mistake for the rest of his life. He _is_ paying for it. He assumed Warden Blackwall's identity to do good in the world. He's followed the Warden ideals better than most of the Wardens themselves. He is a good man paying for a moment of weakness. I think keeping him alive to do his good work is punishment enough."

Cassandra looked Dellis in the eyes and held his stare. She knew he believed every word he spoke, and the resolve in his features was almost unnerving. "You truly believe him worth sparing?"

"I do," Dellis confirmed. "As much as I was worth sparing, at any rate."

"You do the Inquisition credit," Cassandra told him with a smile. "I fear I do not say it enough."

"You can always flatter me more," Dellis replied with a grin. She rolled her eyes, but her expression remained unchanged. Dellis’s expression mellowed suddenly. "Before I left, Josephine mentioned that you and Leliana might be candidates for the Divine."

"It is not without precedent," Cassandra explained. "Amara the Third was sister to the emperor, and Galatea a commoner. Leliana and I were, at least, part of the Chantry hierarchy. It would be accepted."

"Are there really no clerics suitable?" Dellis asked her with a frown.

"Apparently the College believes not," Cassandra returned with a shrug. "I cannot help but believe this is not what the Chantry had in mind when it was founded. The Chantry should provide faith. _Hope_. Instead, it cannot veer from its course, even in the face of certain death."

"That's... surprising to hear you say."

"Why should should it be so unusual?" Cassandra asked, noting the troubled expression on his face. "Am I not the same woman who declared the Inquisition against the Chantry's wishes?"

"Well, yes, but-"

"In all my years as a Seeker, I did what I was told," she interrupted. "My faith demanded it. But now my faith demands something else." Cassandra paused, smiling to herself. "Did you know Varric is Andrastian?"

"You're kidding," Dellis accused.

"Oh, he blasphemes with every second breath, but deep down, he believes. His heart is virtuous." Cassandra sighed as she thought of the dwarf. Despite their differences, she believed everything she said. "He would never step foot in a Chantry. It should be the first place to which the virtuous turn. It needs to change. Perhaps I must be the one to change it."

"What about Leliana?" Dellis asked with a hopeful smile. "She's a candidate too, is she not?"

"Leliana says she wishes to follow Justinia's legacy, but she and I remember a different person," Cassandra explained delicately. "Justinia knew her fellow clerics - and the people - would only accept so much change. Leliana would cast it all aside and start over, I think, and that would be chaos for us all."

"You've thought a lot about this," Dellis commented, frowning deeply. "Do you even _want_ to be Divine?"

"Why should it matter what I want?" Cassandra asked, mirroring his frown. "I would not ask another to do what I am unwilling to do myself. The Chantry needs to change to survive. If I am needed, it is my duty to serve."

"You and your duty," Dellis muttered under his breath, almost so quietly that she didn't hear. But she _did_ hear.

"You seem to be very opposed to me becoming the next Divine," Cassandra accused.

"I'm not against it," Dellis told her, crossing his arms and dropping his gaze to the floor. "I just think you could do more here with the Inquisition than you could with the Chantry."

"You believe I would make a poor Divine, then?" Cassandra asked, feeling herself growing angry.

"What?" Dellis croaked. "No! You'd make a wonderful Divine."

"Then why are you so against it?" Cassandra demanded.

"Because I don't want to lose you to the Chantry!" Dellis shouted back. Cassandra's heart seemed to stop, and Dellis's eyes had gone wide. He seemed as surprised to have uttered the words as Cassandra was to have heard them. They stood frozen, staring at each other for what seemed like an eternity, but Dellis was the first to move.

Cassandra felt her back press against the stone wall of the forge before she felt his lips on hers. Instinctively, she thrust out with her palms, pushing him away violently. Almost as quickly as she had recoiled, she found her hands gripping the flaps of his jacket and pulling him back. The scent of the road was still fresh on his body, a mixture of sweat and dust that Cassandra had grown accustomed to. At the moment, it was more intoxicating than it had any right to be.

Warmth radiated throughout her body as Dellis kissed her, and she knew if she didn't break away soon, she wouldn't be able to. Placing a hand in the center of his chest, Cassandra pushed him away gently. He grunted lightly as they parted, as if disappointed. "I can't."

"Why not?" Dellis asked as she slipped away from him. He stood, propped against the wall, leaning on his right hand, looking as though someone had kicked his puppy.

"We both have responsibilities to the Inquisition," she reminded him, her jaw set in determination. "We can not allow such frivolous feelings to come before our duty."

"Frivolous?" Dellis nearly barked.

Cassandra winced at the anger of his outburst. "I did not mean-"

"You think me foolish, then?" he asked hotly.

"I think us both foolish," she declared, quickly taking a step forward and causing him to recoil. "I want a man who sweeps me off my feet, who gives me flowers and reads me poetry by candlelight. I want the ideal. My heart yearns for these things I cannot have."

"I can be that man, Cassandra," Dellis insisted.

"No, you can't," she insisted stubbornly. Cassandra's expression mellowed slightly as she noticed Dellis's features harden. The disappointment in his face turned to anger.

"Of course I can't," he agreed bitterly. "It was silly of me to think otherwise."

Cassandra realized quickly that he had misunderstood her. "Dellis, wait," she called after him as he turned to leave.

He glanced at her briefly, putting a hand up to stop her. "It's fine. I'll go."

Cassandra called after him again to no avail. She sighed loudly as he disappeared down the stairs, leaving her alone with her thoughts.


	25. Like a Red, Red Rose

Dellis ran a hand through his hair as he paced back and forth along the battlements. The cool mountain breeze streaming over the tops of the stone walls was usually calming, but today it did nothing to ease his troubled mind.

"You stupid, stupid idiot," he grumbled to himself as he looked out over the Frostbacks.

"About time you realized it," Hawke's voice drifted up from behind him. Dellis lazily glanced over his shoulder at her as she reached the top of stairs leading to the battlements.

"Not a good time, Marian," he told her, turning back toward the mountains.

"On the contrary, my friend," she responded, her tone betraying the amused smile Dellis couldn't actually see. "I think this is exactly the right time."

Dellis sighed heavily as he turned around to face Hawke, leaning against the parapets. "Really, Marian, I-"

"What did you do?" she asked, her arms crossed.

"It's kind of a long story," he replied with a sigh.

"Boil it down for me," Hawke suggested with a grin.

"Well, I... sort of told Cass that she shouldn't be Divine," Dellis admitted hesitantly.

Hawke raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Why? The Chantry could probably use a punchy Divine right about now."

"Well, I..." Dellis began, trailing off as he realized he didn't actually have an answer. His expression must have spoken for him, because Hawke's eyes went as wide as saucers.

"You _actually_ like her!" Hawke exclaimed triumphantly, much to Dellis's dismay. "Blast, I owe Varric a sovereign."

"You were betting on it?" Dellis asked her with a frown.

"Varric insisted you had a thing for Cassandra, but after Kawyn and Bethany, she just didn't seem like your type," Hawke explained. "I couldn't help myself. It seemed like a sure bet."

"She's not my type," Dellis agreed. "I don't understand it at all." The two of them stared at each other awkwardly for a long, painful moment. Finally Dellis's head dropped toward the stone below. "I may have kissed her."

"You _what?_ " Hawke asked, her expression a mix of shock and admiration. "Did she hit you?'

"No, of course not!" Dellis blurted as he looked back up at her, his brow deeply furrowed. Hawke sputtered a laugh as he continued to pout.

"Andraste's great flaming ass, I think I owe Varric a second sovereign just for being _that_ right," she chuckled.

"Maker, I feel like a boy," Dellis groaned, hanging his head yet again.

"Do you want my advice?" Hawke asked, clasping her hands behind her back and beaming at him innocently.

"You've told me about Isabela," Dellis reminded her with a light laugh. "I don't think your advice would translate well."

"You poor, adorable man," Hawke laughed. "Even Isabela likes to be wooed."

"Are you suggesting that I _court_ Cassandra?" Dellis asked, folding his arms across his chest.

"She's a classy woman, Dellis," Hawke told him, trying and failing to hide a smirk. "Varric told me she reads his romance serials."

"Is there anything he _doesn't_ tell you?"

"He told me you read them too," Hawke added with a wink.

Dellis rolled his eyes. "Unless Varric is planning to write another, I think I'm out of luck there."

"There must be something else she likes."

"Flowers," Dellis replied immediately. He blushed slightly, not having planned to say it out loud.

"She likes flowers?" Hawke asked. "That's... not what I expected."

"And poetry, apparently," Dellis added with a sigh. "I'm not really the poetry type, though."

"Time to buck up and learn to be, my friend," Hawke said, clapping him on the shoulder. She paused, as if suddenly deep in thought, and brought her hand to her lips. "You know, I swear there was some actual reason I came looking for you..."

* * *

What Hawke had forgotten to tell Dellis was that Josephine had been wanted to see him. When she found him several hours later, the frazzled ambassador explained that an audience had been arranged with the Arl of Redcliffe to discuss the arling's future contributions to the Inquisition's forces. Dellis was to leave the following morning. He was less than enthused, given that he had just returned to Skyhold.

It was felt that the presence of the Left and Right Hands of the Divine would help with the negotiations. Arl Teagan himself was a practical man, and all parties agreed that Josephine's skills as a diplomat would be best saved for more challenging individuals. While Dellis, Leliana and Cassandra softened Arl Teagan, Josephine would be hard at work convincing King Markus of Nevarra to commit troops to the eventual military offensive on Corypheus's forces. Despite Josephine's pleas, Cassandra had made it very clear that simply because she was a Pentaghast did not mean she would have any sway over the Nevarran court.

The trio had dismounted a short way from Redcliffe to allow the horses to rest and drink. Leliana ran a hand along her steed's neck as it drank from the creek just outside the city. Leliana just happened to look up as Dellis walked by, carrying something she couldn't quite make out. She turned and followed him quietly as he approached Cassandra, whose back was turned.

"What is that?" Leliana interrupted as she approached.

Dellis whirled around in surprise, revealing a blushing Cassandra behind him. He looked at Leliana, then down at the object in his hand. "It's a flower."

"It's embrium," Leliana corrected, unable to hide her amused smile. "She's allergic."

With a dumbfounded look on his face, Dellis looked down at the red-petaled flower in his hand, then back up at Leliana. With a sound akin to a snarl, he threw it down into the grass and stalked off toward the horses. It took all of Leliana's practiced composure not to burst into laughter.

"Not a word," Cassandra growled, her cheeks still bright red.

"You know very well that I can't do that," Leliana returned with a grin. "How long has this been going on?"

"There is nothing going on," Cassandra insisted, turning and walking away from Leliana and the horses.

Leliana quickly fell into step behind the Right Hand. "You could have told me, you know."

"I said there is nothing to tell," Cassandra reminded her with a sigh.

"You did," Leliana agreed. "And I can tell you're lying."

Cassandra groaned in defeat and stopped walking, though she did not turned to face her friend. "There is nothing between us," Cassandra repeated. "Dellis seems to believe otherwise."

"Perhaps he is on the right path," Leliana suggested, walking in front of Cassandra. "I've seen the way you two look at each other. Don't place the blame squarely on his shoulders."

"Blame?" Cassandra asked, crossing her arms over her chest and raising an eyebrow.

"You seem to be rather opposed to him," Leliana pointed out. "If you were to ask for my opinion-"

"Which I am not," Cassandra interrupted sternly.

"If you _were_ , I would tell you to find comfort where you can," Leliana continued. "He clearly cares for you."

"It is not that simple," Cassandra sighed. "We both have responsibilities to the Inquisition, and I to the Seekers. This is not the time for frivolities."

"Seeking comfort and strength in another is not weakness, Cassandra," Leliana chided.

"I did not mean to suggest that it was," Cassandra told her with a frown. "It must be difficult for you, with the Hero of Ferelden being away."

"Don't change the subject," Leliana scolded. "Admit that Dellis reminds you of _him_."

Cassandra very visibly bristled at the accusation. "Just what are you implying?" she asked brusquely.

"Just that you have a type," Leliana smiled. Her smile faded somewhat as she glanced toward the creek. Dellis stood next to the horses, arms crossed and impatient gaze fixed squarely on the two women. "I think the Inquisitor is ready to move on."

All Leliana received in response was an annoyed grunt as Cassandra brushed past her. Leliana trailed behind, watching as the two mounted their respective steeds in painful silence. Cassandra pulled ahead as Leliana climbed atop her own horse, leaving the two behind.

"I'm an idiot, aren't I?" Dellis asked with a sigh.

"Well, I think we had best leave the herbalism to our other agents," Leliana told him with a smile. "But your heart was clearly in the right place."

"I hadn't realized you were watching," Dellis admitted with a blush as their horses walked side by side, now trailing behind Cassandra by a significant margin.

"I'm always watching," she reminded him with a wink.

"That's a bit creepy, Leliana," Dellis told her with a grin. "Don't tell anyone about this, would you?"

"Keeping secrets is what I do, Inquisitor."

With Cassandra setting a swift pace, the remaining journey to Redcliffe was short. Leliana smiled to herself wistfully as her eyes fell on the ruined heap of stones that had once been been the proud Redcliffe windmill. She remembered climbing through the hidden passage during the Blight to sneak into the castle and save Connor Guerrin. She wondered what had become of the young mage since the Circles had disbanded.

The three were greeted by a delegation of the city guard. One of the soldiers, who seemed to be the guard captain, bowed her head politely as another rounded up the horses and led them toward the stables.

"Inquisitor, it's an honor," the guard captain said to Dellis. "Arl Teagan is ready to meet with you at your convenience."

"The sooner the better," Dellis mumbled. "Take us to him now."

The guard captain led the three through the bustling streets of Redcliffe. The atmosphere seemed different than when the city had been occupied by Alexius and his Venatori. While not perfect, life in Redcliffe seemed to be back to normal.

They reached the castle with little more than a few turned heads. From her position behind Dellis, Leliana could more easily admire the confidence with which he walked through the winding hallways. He held himself with the poise and decorum of any noble, and Leliana wondered to herself if she should mention it later. It had been easy to see that many of his insecurities stemmed from his low birth, both regarding the Inquisition itself as well as Cassandra.

Having been of low station herself, Leliana could sympathize with his feelings to a point. By the time she had met the Warden, her experiences in Orlais had hardened her such that any doubts she might have clung to had long evaporated. Dellis, on the other hand, had no such experience.

Up until his escapades at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, he had simply been a poor vagabond with a questionable past and an even more questionable future. Cassandra represented the unattainable, a goal so distant and insurmountable that it would hardly seem worth pursuing. Leliana had seen the uncertainty in his eyes. But something had changed.

As they entered the throne room, Leliana could see that Arl Teagan was deep in conversation with a young man whose back was turned to them. Leliana finally caught a brief glance of his face, and her eyes brightened in surprise. "Connor, is that you?"

Both the men turned toward her voice. Though he was much older than the last time she had seen him, the young man's features bore a striking resemblance to the previous Arl.

"Leliana, I didn't expect to you here!" Connor said, stepping away from his uncle and toward the group.

"You have grown since last I saw you," Leliana told him with a smile. "How is your father?"

"Father is well, I think," Connor replied, his face falling slightly. "I haven't had a letter from him for a while."

"The war has disrupted communications throughout southern Thedas," Leliana explained. "If you like, we could use the Inquisition's resources to reach him."

"Could you?" Connor asked, his eyes brightening. "That would be wonderful."

"I think perhaps it's time we get down to business," Teagan interrupted. "Although it _is_ a pleasure to see you again, Leliana. It had been far too long."

"Sorry, Uncle," Connor apologized, bowing slightly and taking his leave of the room.

"I wasn't aware the two of you were acquainted," Dellis mentioned, moving forward to accept the Arl's now outstretched hand. A handshake was an oddly informal greeting for an Arl and the Inquisitor, but Leliana was not surprised by the gesture, knowing the Arl as she did. He was a simple man, which had served his arling well since Eamon's retirement.

"Move through the noble circles in Thedas long enough, and you'll find yourself acquainted with more people than you care to count," Teagan replied with a smile.

“What the Arl means to say is that we met during the Fifth Blight,” Leliana added. “And I am certain he was pleased to make my acquaintance.”

“I would never suggest otherwise. You and your companions did save my life after all,” Teagan reminded her, before turning his attention back to Dellis. "The arling of Redcliffe owes your Inquisition a debt, Your Worship. My people pay their debts well."

"We understand that your militia and soldiers have been focused on protecting your people from the threat of the rogue templars and rebel mages," Dellis explained. "The Inquisition has expended great effort to clear the Hinterlands of these threats, and it is our hope that with your people now safe that you might agree to supply a portion of your soldiers to our war effort against Corypheus."

Teagan crossed his arms, looking as though he was deep in thought. "Redcliffe can not afford to donate _all_ its resources to your war," Teagan explained. "We do still need to protect our gates from other threats."

"We wouldn't dream of asking you to leave your people completely undefended," Dellis agreed.

"I believe, when the Inquisition is prepared to make their push against Corypheus, we can provide the support you seek," Teagan told him.

"You have our thanks, My Lord," Dellis replied with bow.

"Please take advantage of our hospitality while you're here in Redcliffe," Teagan implored, waving over a young man from the side of the room. "Thomas here can show your quarters."

"Thank you, Arl Teagan," Dellis replied. "We should be leaving in the morning, however."

"In that case, once you're settled, please do me the honor of joining me for the evening's meal," Teagan implored with a smile. "I should like to get to know the leader of the Inquisition in a less formal setting."

* * *

Though he would have liked to stay in Redcliffe longer, Dellis kept true to his word. The three departed the village first thing the following morning. The journey was swift and uneventful, not even interrupted by rifts. The group finally reached Skyhold's gates at dusk. Leliana and Cassandra had promptly disappeared, and Dellis almost instinctively found himself in the tavern.

After a few drinks, Dellis began to think about what Hawke had told him before they'd left. She seemed enamored with the idea of him courting Cassandra, as if she weren't beyond his grasp. The more he considered it, however, the fewer misgivings he had. Leliana hadn't warned him against it, which meant he must have a chance.

It didn't take long for Dellis to find himself in the forge. He moved up the stairs as quietly as he could. He peeked his head just over the floor boards and sighed in relief when he saw that Cassandra was thankfully absent. He finished his ascent and quickly moved to the table where she had left her books. One of the pages of the top book was dog-eared about halfway through. Dellis hesitated a moment, but finally picked it up.

As he opened it, Dellis was dismayed to find it written entirely in Orlesian. From his time with the Inquisition, he could recognize a few words here and there, but not nearly enough to make any sense of the writings within. He sighed softly as he simply stared at the pages, as if wishing the words to be intelligible would make it so.

"What are you doing?"

Still holding the book, Dellis whirled around to face the familiar voice. Cassandra stood at the top of the stairs, her hands on her hips as she stared at him. She raised an eyebrow when he failed to respond.

"It's in Orlesian," Dellis finally said, turning the book so the pages faced her and pointing at one of the pages. "You can actually read this?"

"The Seekers serve the Orlesian Chantry very closely," Cassandra reminded him. "Of _course_ I can read it."

"Yes, how silly of me to forget," Dellis muttered. He considered simply putting the book down and making a hasty retreat, but he knew that running away again would solve nothing. "Well, short of me learning to read Orlesian, do you perhaps have another book I might have a look at?"

Cassandra moved toward him, plucking the book out of hands and setting it back down on the table. "What are you doing, Dellis?" she asked with a sigh. "I thought we came to an agreement that-"

"There was no agreement," Dellis interrupted. "There was me throwing a tantrum for not getting my way, I think, but nothing more."

"Please, do not make this more difficult than it must be."

"I'm sure it will come as no surprise to you that I'm not really the poetry kind of guy," Dellis began, clasping his hands behind his back. "Apparently I also need to do my research and find out what you're allergic to before I try and give you flowers again."

Cassandra looked like she wanted to interrupt him, but thankfully she held her tongue. Her fingertips rested on the leather binding of the book Dellis has been holding, and she seemed frozen in place as he spoke.

"I've never... you know... courted anyone before. Properly, I mean," he explained. "I've never _wanted_ to, but..." Dellis hesitated for a moment, nearly losing his nerve as Cassandra's unwavering stare bore into him like an arrow. He took a deep breath to steady himself. "I'll learn to read Orlesian, if that's what it takes. I'll shout poetry from my balcony. Hell, I'll wear that blasted doublet if I have to."

"It is not that simple, Dellis," Cassandra finally told him with a sigh. "I am possibly the last living Seeker of Truth left in all of Thedas. It will be my duty to rebuild once all of this is over."

It didn't take a master of perception to hear the uncertainty in her voice. "You're not sure about it, are you?"

Cassandra was silent for a moment. "No, I am not," she admitted. "I am not certain the Seekers _deserve_ to be rebuilt."

"What do you mean?" Dellis asked with a frown.

"I did not share with you what was in the book Lucius left behind," Cassandra explained. "The Seekers have done troubling things. Perhaps it is time to let them rest."

"You don't really believe that," Dellis told her. "I know you. You would want to do better."

"I do," Cassandra agreed. "But I wonder if I _should_."

"I don't believe you can possibly be the _last_ living Seeker," Dellis replied. "There must be more out there somewhere. Corypheus couldn't have found them all. You can rebuild them into something greater than they became."

She nodded solemnly, her gaze drifting as she considered his words. "If I were to rebuild, we would all read Lucius's book," Cassandra told him. "There would be no more secrets, and we would establish a new charter to do the Maker's work, this time in more than word alone."

"You have my support, if you want it," Dellis told her with a smile. "It won't make me stop trying, though."

Cassandra snorted in disgust and turned away from him. "There is still a very real possibility that I could be named Divine."

"Then refuse it," Dellis suggested, moving toward her. She flinched slightly as she turned to face him, clearly not expecting him to have been so close.

"I can not simply refuse," Cassandra explained.

"Why not?" Dellis asked, crossing his arms. "It seems simple to me. 'Dear Chantry, no thank you. Sincerely, Cassandra.' See? Easy."

Cassandra made a sound that seemed to be halfway between a grunt and a laugh. "If only it _was_ so easy."

"You're doing an excellent job practicing on me," Dellis told her with a grin. "I plan to give you plenty more opportunities to say no."

"You enjoy making things complicated, don't you?"

"It's a talent," he told her with a smile. He bowed deeply at the waist, amused to see her blush slightly as he straightened. "I shall take my leave of you, lest I wear out my welcome."

Dellis held Cassandra's gaze for a moment before turning and heading for the stairs. He couldn't see her smile as he walked away.


	26. Righting the Left Hand

"You sent for me?"

Leliana looked up from her desk as Dellis cleared the last of the steps leading to the rookery. He had been surprised that Leliana asked to see him, although as Inquisitor perhaps he should have been surprised she did not confer with him more often.

"Yes," she nodded, not getting up from the desk. "There is something I must discuss with you."

"I don't suppose it has anything to do with your candidacy for Divine, does it?" Dellis asked, stepping toward where she sat. As he moved closer, he could see Leliana's hand resting gingerly on top of a letter.

"Ah, so you've heard," Leliana replied with a frown.

"I'm surprised Josephine didn't mention it to you," Dellis admitted, noting her change in expression. "I've known since before my trip to Lydes."

"Josephine likely did not comprehend the significance of such a discovery," Leliana mused, almost to herself. Dellis could feel his cheeks blush slightly as he realized that she had know the news had upset him. After their conversation near Redcliffe, he knew he shouldn't have been surprised.

"We talked about it," Dellis told her with a shrug. "How do _you_ feel about it?"

"I am not entirely certain," Leliana admitted. "The Chantry is in chaos. Whoever is called to become the next Divine will inherit a sinking ship."

"Honestly, either of you could steer it," Dellis replied.

"In vastly different directions," Leliana added with a weary sigh. "In any case, I did not ask you here to discuss Chantry politics."

"Is something wrong?" Dellis asked, taking a seat in the empty chair across from her.

"I received a message from Divine Justinia," Leliana explained, pushing the letter toward him.

Dellis looked down at the nearly perfect script inked upon the somewhat worn piece of parchment. The creases were deep, leading him to believe that the letter may have been somewhat aged. "She wrote wrote to you before she died?"

"A safeguard, in the event of the unthinkable," Leliana agreed with a weary nod. "I expect she did not believe an end would come so soon after writing it."

"You served her for _years_ , didn't you?" Dellis asked. "Perhaps it wasn't soon."

"She had only been Divine for seven years," Leliana reminded him. "Divine Beatrix served over twenty years before her death."

"I guess time is relative," Dellis shrugged. "What does the it say? I haven't learned quite enough Orlesian to make out enough of the words."

"She wishes me to travel to the village of Valence," Leliana told him. "It is to the north of Skyhold, across the Waking Sea. We can take a vessel from Jader and reach it within a day or two."

"We?" Dellis repeated. "You're asking me to travel with you?"

"It is a task that would be unwise to attempt alone," Leliana explained. "As Inquisitor, your presence may ease the process."

"You mean you're bringing me to intimidate someone," Dellis corrected with a slight smile.

"Not in the way you might think," Leliana assured him. "I can intimidate with violence. You can intimidate to avoid it."

"Alright, I'm in," Dellis agreed with a nod. "When do we leave?"

* * *

Every time he travelled to Orlais, Dellis was reminded of how much he hated boats. The waters of the Waking Sea seemed far choppier than they should have been, and the light storm that had picked up halfway through their journey had only complicated matters. Thankfully Leliana had brought potions, else the voyage might have proved problematic.

"I hate sailing," Dellis grumbled to himself as they stepped off the dock. Despite being a part of the Orlesian Empire, the city was landlocked between Cumberland and Kirkwall. Its location between the two cities had resulted in much of the architecture and culture drawing from both Nevarra and the Free Marches.

"I will have my agents look into better remedies for the future," Leliana offered as they walked toward the Chantry.

"That's alright," Dellis assured her. "You know, while I was busy trying not to wretch in the hold, I had a thought regarding our trip to Redcliffe."

"Oh?" Leliana asked, turning toward him slightly. Her hood was up, so Dellis could not quite see enough of her face to judge her reaction.

"I understood when you suggested that having the Left and Right Hands of the Divine present for the negotiations would help ease the process," Dellis explained. "Right up until Arl Teagan was the most agreeable noble I've yet to meet."

Leliana was silent for a moment as they continued toward the now looming Chantry. "It has been many years since I last spoke with the Arl. I could not be certain how he might react."

"You're the Spymaster, Leliana," Dellis reminded her. "I'm certain your reports painted a lovely picture of how the Arl might have changed over the years. Or, as it turns out, might _not_ have changed. You knew I could handle it without you."

Leliana stopped walking, looking up at Dellis from beneath her hood. "Yes, I knew you would not need our support to win the Arl's favor."

"Then why insist on coming?" Dellis asked curiously. Even as Spymaster, Leliana could not hide the blush that rose to her cheeks.

"It was... personal," she finally admitted.

"It was the Warden, wasn't it?" Dellis asked, crossing his arms with a satisfied smile. "Is that why you suddenly disappeared during supper?"

"I received a letter from him, asking to me to meet him in Redcliffe," Leliana confirmed as she once again began to walk toward the Chantry, Dellis close on her heels. "I worried, should the others discover his presence in Ferelden, that they might demand he join the Inquisition."

"So you came up with an excuse," Dellis nodded. "It makes sense."

"He was the one who gave me the missive from Dorothea," Leliana continued. "She must have given it to him years ago, after the Fifth Blight. He said he had been trying to reach me since discovering her death, and did not wish to entrust such a document to a courier."

"Dorothea...?" Dellis repeated. The momentary confusion on Leliana's face quickly melted away.

"My apologies, I had not even realized I said it," she replied. "Before becoming Divine, Justinia was Revered Mother Dorothea of the Valence Chantry. I first met Dorothea several years before she was elected as the replacement for Divine Beatrix."

"So I take it your relationship with her was more personal than Cassandra's?" Dellis asked.

"Perhaps at the beginning," Leliana agreed. "Do not discount the effect Justinia had on her, however. They may not have known each other as long, but their connection was just as deep."

It didn't take long for the pair to reach the Chantry doors. Unlike the rest of the village, the Chantry was disctingly Orlesian, both inside and out. As soon as they entered, a smile grew on Leliana's face. "It is just as I remember it."

"Was it this empty in your memories?" Dellis asked, noting that the Chantry seemed almost abandoned. "It's mid day. Shouldn't there be people here?"

"It's too early for the Chant, but it is strange to be _this_ deserted," Leliana agreed, narrowing her eyes as she moved toward the heart of the building.

As Leliana reached the end of the nave, one of the sisters appeared from around a corner. "Leliana? Is that you?"

"Sister Natalie," Leliana greeted her warmly. "What are you doing in Valence? I thought you were serving in Val Royeaux."

"I have been here since Justinia died," Natalie explained, her features dour as she moved forward to embrace her friend. Leliana wrapped her arms around the sister, making a point to catch Dellis's eye. A slow nod of her head told him to be on guard. "Being here reminds me of her. It is almost as if she is still with us."

"Inquisitor, this is Natalie," Leliana explained as they broke their embrace. "She has been a trusted friend for many years."

"Wait, you brought the Inquisitor here?" Natalie asked, seeming slightly startled. "My lord, forgive me for not recognizing you earlier."

"It's a refreshing change of pace," he told her with a smile. He could tell that her surprised reaction had been one of dismay, not confusion.

"I am here looking for something," Leliana explained. "Justinia left something for me. I had hoped you might know where it is."

"Oh, really?" Natalie asked, her eyes brightening. "What is it?"

"I don't know, but we'll find it," Leliana replied. "I'm sure Justinia left clues in her letter that will lead us to it."

The three walked deeper into the Chantry, with Leliana nose deep in Justinia's letter. "That missive was fairly cryptic, as I recall," Dellis commented. "Didn't she says something about faith springing from a barren branch?"

"Something like that," Leliana responded, barely looking up. "Natalie, do they still sing verses from the Benedictions every Friday? That canticle was Justinia's favorite."

"Yes, of course," Natalie replied, following closely behind her. "We'd never give up the traditions of our most beloved Divine."

"Wait, a barren branch..." Dellis nearly whispered as his eyes fell on the artwork adorning each of the walls. He walked toward the one of the paintings on the north side of the hall, his gaze locked on a depiction of a rose branch.

"Yes, the rose bush in Lothering," Leliana breathed, rushing up next to him to examine the art. "She remembered..."

Dellis grasped the frame on either side and lifted it up from its hook on the wall, gently placing it on the floor. Behind the painting was what looked like a switch set deep into the stone. "Well, I thought that only happened in stories," Dellis muttered as Leliana pushed past him. A clicking noise could be heard as she pulled the switch.

"Come, let us look for more" Leliana suggested, once again returning her attention to the letter. This time Dellis could see her eyes flit toward Natalie. Leliana already knew what she was looking for. "You know, sometimes I stare up at the breach. It's terrifying, but beautiful in its way."

"It is beautiful," Natalie agreed.

"Have you seen it by sunrise?" Leliana asked, glancing up at the other woman.

Natalie nodded with a weak smile. "When the sun rises through it, it splits into what looks like a thousand suns, like a broken mirror."

Dellis frowned. He had spent enough time in Orlais to know that what she described was impossible in that part of the continent. He realized what Leliana was doing. She was talking the sister into a corner, letter her incriminate herself, and Natalie had no idea it was even happening. He reminded himself internally to never cross the Spymaster.

"It's glorious, isn't it?" Dellis added. He briefly made eye contact with Leliana, the two quietly sharing a knowing glance.

"There," Leliana announced, pointing toward the wall. "'Above all, that strength lives in an open heart.' The painting of Hessarian and Andraste."

"Well, that one's quite literal," Dellis commented, moving to take the painting off the wall. "And morbid."

"Driving his sword through Andraste's heart was an act of mercy," Leliana reminded him.

"It's still a bit macabre," Dellis told her, setting the painting down on the floor next to them. With a click, the second switch was thrown. "How many of these do you think there are?"

"I'm not sure," Leliana admitted. "Hmm, 'that light has no fear of darkness.'"

"How often does the Chantry redecorate?" Dellis asked, looking around the small room for anything that might lead them to the next clue.

"Rarely, if at all," Leliana returned. "Why?"

"I was just thinking that if anyone had swapped out these paintings, we'd have had quite the challenge on our hands," he replied with a shrug. Suddenly his eyes fell upon a small area rug, emblazoned with the burning sun that served as the Chantry's logo. "Call me crazy, but..."

Dellis frowned as he lifted up the rug, revealing nothing beneath. He was about set it back down when a firm hand stopped him. "Wait," Leliana ordered, pulling a dagger from a hidden sheath within her armor. She carefully ran her hand along the rough dark stone, pausing before bringing the blade to bear. She wedged it into what had been an almost imperceptible crack in the stone, carefully prying a chunk loose.

With Dellis's help, Leliana pulled the piece of stone out and set it on the floor next to them. In the newly-formed opening was another switch. As Leliana pulled it, Dellis could hear a loud grinding sound as a door behind them opened, revealing a small box atop an ornate table. Dellis slowly moved toward the the table. He hadn't realized Leliana wasn't following until he heard her slam Natalie in the pedestal behind them.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," Leliana snarled, raising the blade to the sister's throat.

"Leliana, wait!" Dellis shouted, nearly tripping over the rug in his haste to reach them. "You don't have to do this."

"I'm protecting us," Leliana explained, not taking her eyes off her quarry. "They never sing the Benedictions here on Fridays, Natalie. Something so simple, and you got it so wrong. I wanted to believe, but you were lying from the start."

Dellis couldn't see Leliana's face from his position behind her, but he could hear the anger in her voice. Justinia had been betrayed again, even months after her death. The insult was one she could not bear. The room was eerily quiet, beyond the heavy breathing of the traitorous Chantry sister. Natalie's eyes were wide enough to show her fear, but he could tell her resolve was strong.

"Keep that pretty mouth shut if you must, dear," Leliana told her as Natalie remained silent. "You've already told me everything I need to know. The prickleweed burs on your hem, talking about the sun rising through the Breach. It all points to a single place: Morelle in the Dales. Grand Cleric Victoire's bastion. She sent you, didn't she? Victoire was always an opportunist."'

"The Inquisition has turned Thedas away from the true Chantry," Natalie accused, the sweat dripping down her temple betraying the confidence in her eyes. "It must stopped."

"Stop us?" Leliana laughed. "You must be joking."

"Mother Victoire is well loved by many," Natalie explained. "The Inquisition has more enemies than you know."

"And Victoire thinks she can ally with them?" Dellis asked. "We've dealt with troublesome clerics before."

"Kill me then," Natalie taunted. "I'm not afraid to die for my beliefs. At least _I_ still know what I believe."

"Let her go, Leliana," Dellis urged after a moment.

"The grand cleric-"

"She's no greater threat to us than the other clerics we've dealt with," Dellis reminded her. "We've seen worse and prevailed."

Leliana glanced at Dellis over her shoulder for a brief moment before returning her attention to Natalie. She lowered the dagger and stepped backward toward him. "Go. Tell Victoire that she has a choice, and that the Inquisition is coming."

Natalie hesitated a moment, looking back and forth between the two. "I would recommend you leave, before she changes her mind," Dellis suggested. "As Inquisitor, I can only be so persuasive."

Dellis could hear Leliana breathe a sigh of relief as Natalie fled the Chantry. Without a word, she turned toward the hidden room and approached the small box. She lifted it gingerly off the table, quickly blowing the dust off of the lid before opening it. From behind her, Dellis could see her shoulders fall. "It's... it's empty."

"Empty?" Dellis asked, leaning over her shoulder. "How is that possible?"

"We came all this way for nothing," Leliana growled, her grip on the box tightening.

"Look, there," Dellis told her, pointing toward the inside of the lid. "There's an engraving."

"It says 'The Left Hand should lay down her burden'," Leliana read softly. "She... she's releasing me."

"She apologized in the Fade," Dellis told her. "She said she failed you. This must be what she meant."

"Perhaps that spirit was not _just_ a spirit after all," Leliana added, her eyes still locked on the small box. "All this time, Justinia carried the fear that she was using me, just as Marjolaine had before her. But _her_ games were trifles. Justinia gambled with the fate of nations."

"She needed you," Dellis realized. "No one else could have done what you did. I'm sure it wasn't the same, and it's not who you are anymore."

"Perhaps you're right," Leliana replied, setting the box back on the table.

"Take it," Dellis suggested. "To remind you."

Without a word, Leliana scooped up the box and placed it in her pack. They quickly departed the Chantry, heading back toward the docks. Dellis mentally prepared himself for what sure to be a challenging trip back across the Waking Sea, both because of the waves and his wayward Spymaster.

"You know," Leliana began as they approached the docks. "The Benedictions really _were_ her favorite."

* * *

"You know, had you not stopped me, I would've killed Natalie with no regrets," Leliana announced, more than halfway into their journey from Jader back to Skyhold.

"I don't believe that," Dellis replied. "Varric once told me that the best Spymasters can separate their feelings from their agents. That they can view them as resources, rather than people. But I think that level of care makes you _stronger_ , not weaker."

Leliana laughed lightly from atop her horse as it walked along the wooded path toward the mountains. "Cassandra once told me that our agents were not tools to be discarded. Justinia taught me compassion, but she also caused me to lose much of it."

"She seemed to feel rather guilty about it, judging from the letter and my experience in the Fade," Dellis reminded her. "Perhaps she regretted doing what was necessary at the time."

"Someone had to," Leliana agreed. "But I am more than what Justinia made me, and she knew it. I know now that I shouldn't ignore my heart. Mercy is not always a weakness, and I have you to thank for realizing that."

"I'm just loud and obnoxious and butt in where I'm not welcome," Dellis told her with a grin. "I'm glad I could help, though."

Leliana's reply was interrupted when both horses abruptly stopped. "They're spooked."

"By what?" Dellis asked, swinging his leg over the saddle and hopping down to the ground. He pulled his bow out of the sheath strapped to the horse, just in case. He had just enough time to duck before an arrow whizzed past where his head had just been. He quickly grabbed his quivern just moments before the horse broke off toward the tree line.

"Red templars!" Leliana shouted, readying her own bow. A pack of soldiers appeared from the trees, weapons ready. Dellis loosed arrow after arrow, targeted the weak sections of their armor as best he could. The two archers were able to drop several of the templars before they could get into melee range, but eventually Dellis had to move. He ducked as one of the templars approached, barely avoiding the blow of the incoming sword. Dellis lashed out with the bow itself, striking the templar in the back of the knee and causing him to tumble backward into the dirt. Dellis pulled a dagger out of his boot and drove it into the man's neck.

As he rose to his feet, Dellis's eyes fell on what their soldiers had less than amusingly dubbed a horror. A horror was a templar so fully corrupted that huge red lyrium growths had erupted from its back and arms, and the templar's form was so mutated as to longer even resemble a human. In fact, they looked more like demons than men.

Dellis threw himself toward the ground below as the horror reached out a spindly arm. He felt a sting on his cheek and arm as he just barely avoided being peppered with red lyrium projectiles. Any slower and he might have looked like a pin cushion.

"To the trees!" Leliana bellowed, waving Dellis toward the stand just next to the road. He clambered to his feet and sprinted toward the relative safety of the tree line. Calling upon the skills he had learned from Kawyn, he shimmied up the trunk of one of the trees until he reached a sturdy limb, high enough to afford relative safety, but strong enough to easily hold his weight. He quickly picked off a few of the archers while Leliana dealt with the horror, affording them both a moment to breathe.

"Are you alright?" Dellis called out, seeing Leliana perched similarly in the boughs of a nearby oak.

"I'll live," she assured him. "Are you injured?"

"Just a scratch," Dellis replied, reaching back for another arrow. He stopped suddenly, his fingers lingering on the fletching, as his eyes widened at the sight before him. "What is that?"

"What is that?" Leliana repeated, her voice filled with far more concern than he had ever heard before.

The branches shook as the figure of a lumbering red templar appeared deep within the forest. Dellis felt his breath catch in his throat as the figure became clear. If a horror was a full corrupted red templar, then he couldn't imagine how much red lyrium a monstrosity such as this would require to create. It appeared to be nothing more than a mass of red lyrium with arms and legs, measuring more than twice the height of a man. He could barely make out a face, twisted in agony as it shuffled through the foliage toward them.

They had made a grave error. As the two watched the creature in awe, its momentum increased, until finally it reached the the tree where Dellis had taken refuge. The creature simply plowed into the trunk with the full force of its body, nearly throwing Dellis out of the canopy right then and there. With a loud crack and a howl of agony from the termplar, Dellis realized the trunk had snapped at the base.

Dellis had no time to dread his eventual plummet to the ground below. As the tree collided with its neighbor, he could no longer maintain his perch. He had not climbed up far enough that he was in true danger, but it felt as though he struck each and every branch of the neighboring tree on the way down.

With a loud groan, Dellis pushed himself up off the forest floor. He was reminded of his situation as an enraged howl ripped through the underbrush. Dellis sprung to his feet quicker than his body should have allowed, just in time to avoid the templar's massive hammer-like fist as it embedded itself into the dirt beside him. The ground shook from the impact.

 _Arrows aren't going to do anything to this beast_ , Dellis thought to himself in a near panic. For all intents and purposes, the create was nothing but a giant crystal of red lyrium with a head and legs. _The head_. Realizing the monster's weakness, Dellis wasted no time in lining up a shot as it shambled toward him. He loosed the arrow and watched it fly toward the templar's helmet. The beast recoiled in pain as the arrow wedged itself in its eye socket.

The blow had nothing but anger the creature. Dellis backed away slowly as it regained its composure, continuing to advance on his position. This gave Leliana the opening she had been waiting for. She launched herself out of the canopy, direct onto the creature's back. It howled angrily as it tried to dislodge her, but the same mutation that gave it its power left it almost humorously unable to reach her. With sword in hand, Leliana pulled the blade around the monster's neck, quickly relieving it of its head. It toppled to the ground in a heap of red lyrium, sending Leliana sprawling onto her back.

Dellis offered a hand to help her up. "Looks like the rest fled."

"Thank the Maker for that," Leliana breathed as she let him help her to her feet. "Are you wounded?"

"Nothing serious," Dellis promised, looking down at his now tattered jacket. "I'm sure I look worse than I feel."

"Are you sure nothing's broken?" Leliana asked with a frown. "You took quite the fall."

"I'm fine," he confirmed, futilely scanning the tree line. "So much for the horses."

"We can make it on foot," Leliana assured him.

"I know, but it'll take twice as long," Dellis complained. "And the horses had our water."

"Come now, did you not spend time with the Dalish?" Leliana asked with a grin. "I am certain you will survive a few hours in the wilderness."

"As long as no more of those behemoths attack us, I suppose we'll be fine."

* * *

Dellis worried he might simply collapse as he passed through the now open gate into Skyhold. Though he put on a strong face for Leliana, he felt as though he'd fallen off the mountain rather than just out of a tree. Every muscle in his body screamed in protest, and he was bleeding from any number of cuts he'd received from the branches of the tree. He knew better than to think Leliana hadn't noticed, but at the very least she had said nothing.

"Inquisitor, are you injured?" the gate guard asked in dismay as she approached them. "I'll fetch the mages."

"I'm fine," Dellis assured her with a wave of his hand. "Nothing a good poultice can't fix."

"Dellis!" Cassandra shouted from the stairs.

"Maker preserve me," he muttered to himself as she approached. "Have you just been sitting there waiting for us?"

"Your jacket is in tatters," Cassandra commented, ignoring him as she surveyed the sad remains of his clothing. "You look as if you walked through a thorn bush."

"Close enough," Leliana told her. "We were ambushed by red templars on our way back from Jader. The horses were lost."

"I sort of fell out of a tree," Dellis added, shrugging slightly with a bashful look on his face.

"We were attacked by a horror, and some new form of red templar," Leliana added. "They seemed most interested in Dellis."

"Are those wounds from red lyrium?" Cassandra asked in concern, staring almost uncomfortably at the gash on Dellis's face.

"I'm fine," he assured her. He swatted her hand as she moved to inspect the wound. "I said _I'm fine_. Stop doting."

"You could have red lyrium poisoning," she reminded him sternly.

"He has shown no signs of infection," Leliana assured her. She glanced briefly at Dellis, then returned her attention to Cassandra. "I apologize, but I must return to my agents. This unexpected delay has already cost far too much time."

Dellis grinned after her as Leliana retreated, knowing exactly why she had left. He turned toward the gate guard. "You can return to your post."

"Yes, Your Worship," she said with a nod. Dellis reached into his pack as the man disappeared into the guard tower.

"Maker, all I want right now is a long, hot bath," Dellis muttered, reaching into his satchel.

"What are you doing?" Cassandra asked with a frown. He pulled his hand out of the bag, producing a small bouquet of purple flowers. "What are these...?"

"They're flowers," Dellis chuckled. "Irises, to be precise. I'm told you shouldn't be allergic to these."

Cassandra stared at the bouquet for a moment before looking up at him. Dellis couldn't quite read her expression, which meant she wasn't angry. "Leliana helped you with this?"

"She answered truthfully, I hope, when I asked her if they'd make you break out in hives," he replied with a grin. "If that constitutes help, then I suppose she helped."

Cassandra glanced at the flowers once more, then sighed deeply. "You know I can not accept them."

"I know you _won't_ ," Dellis amended. "And you know full well that it won't stop me."

Cassandra finally sighed in defeat. "Come, you should see Solas about your injuries."

Dellis placed the flowers back into his pack, quietly following her toward the keep. He accepted her refusal for the moment, but by the time the sun rose the next morning, Cassandra would find a carefully placed crown of purple flowers on her reading desk, next to a book of Nevarran poetry. Dellis was a stubborn man, and he had absolutely no intention of giving up the fight just yet.


	27. The Well of All Souls

"I still can't believe Celene trudged all the way out here to the Arbor Wilds," Dorian clucked from the back of the group. As Cassandra hacked through the foliage in front of them, Dellis began to wonder how long it would take before she turned her frustration on the mage.

"You might be surprised, Tevinter," Morrigan replied. Her voice was even and calm, but even Dellis's untrained ear could hear the air of superiority. Even during her brief stay at Skyhold, Dellis had learned enough about the famed Witch of the Wilds to know that she felt herself to be above most, if not all, other mages. The only mage she seemed to show any respect for was Solas, and it was more tolerance than actual respect. She was courteous, at the least, which was something Leliana had led him to believe was a recent development.

"Maker's breath, you are all louder than the birds," Cassandra grumbled loudly as she violently sliced through a particularly thick branch blocking their path. "If the red templars can not hear us coming then they must be deaf."

Upon arriving in the Arbor Wilds, both the Inquisition and the Orlesian contingent had dispatched scouts into the jungle to search for Corypheus and his red templars. If the reports were to be believed, their numbers were high. Higher than any of them had expected. Only half of the scouts had returned, and those that did spoke of a massive and corrupted force stretching deep within the jungle.

Morrigan had shown Dellis her eluvian, a magical elven mirror she claimed held great power that Corypheus sought to use to breach the delicate fabric of the Veil and enter the Fade in the flesh. She explained that another laid deep within the Arbor Wilds, within the long lost Temple of Mythal. They could not allow Corypheus to succeed, and thus the Inquisition had scrambled to marshal enough of its forces to push through the Arbor Wilds and find the eluvian before Corypheus did.

"Unless you want to run into another one of those behemoths, I recommend you listen to Cassandra," Dellis suggested. They had not seen any of the creatures since their return from Jader, but word of the encounter had spread. Dellis was not foolish enough to believe they would not encounter such a monstrosity in the Wilds.

Cassandra continued to slice through the heavy underbrush. The Wilds were rarely traversed, and as such there were no paths through the jungle for them to travel. That could work in their favor, since an ambush would be just as difficult for their attackers, but it also made fighting difficult. The entire group stopped abruptly as Cassandra broke through the foliage into what appeared to be a clearing.

"Well, would you look at that," Bull muttered from the back. Before them was a cavernous clearing, full of what appeared to be ancient elven ruins. Dellis took a step forward beyond the group, surveying their surroundings. The ruins might have held some interest had they not been next to the most glorious waterfall any of them had ever seen.

"If we survive this, perhaps I'll return here for a picnic," Dellis mentioned, winking at Cassandra as he past. He didn't turn to see her reaction, but he was sure he heard an annoyed sigh.

"I think we have more important things to do than appreciate the scenery, my dear," Vivienne suggested.

"Yes, this would be a good place for-"

An ambush is what Dellis would have said, if the arrow that whizzed past his ear hadn't cut him off. He immediately dropped to the ground, doing his best to disappear into the foliage as the rest of the party scattered.

"Protect the Inquisitor!" Blackwall bellowed. Vivienne erected a barrier around the group, giving Dellis the opportunity he needed to scramble for cover. He quickly scurried behind a tree, taking a moment to ready his bow before popping back out to join the fight.

Cassandra and Blackwall stood shoulder to shoulder in a makeshift shield wall to protect the mages as they flung spell after spell at the incoming templars. Sera had scurried up a tree and was unleashing a salvo of arrows at their attackers while Cole deftly snuck up behind one of the warriors and effortlessly ended him.

Dellis set an arrow on the string and loosed it. It sailed toward one of the templars flanking Bull, piercing her armor and sending her sprawling to the leaf-littered ground below. Bull's warhammer quickly silenced her.

"Are those Wardens?" Dorian shouted between spells. Even from a distance, Dellis could see Blackwall's hesitation. In the distance, a handful of warriors in full Warden regalia advanced, their weapons drawn and their eyes glassy. _They must still be under Corypheus's spell_ , Dellis thought to himself. There would be no saving them, much as he would prefer not to slaughter what remained of Fereldan's Grey Wardens.

Before the Wardens could reach them, a half dozen figures dropped from the trees in front of them. The Wardens, taken completely by surprise, stood no chance against the new assailants. They were cut down, one by one, quicker than they could raise their shields. As the Inquisition forces finished off the templars, the figures disappeared.

"Elves," Morrigan mused, crossing her arms. "Curious."

"What would elves be doing this far into the wilds?" Dellis asked, turning toward Solas. The mage was quiet for a moment before answering.

"There are a great many things we do not know about the Arbor Wilds," he finally replied, moving forward. "Come, we should press on. Time is against us."

The group trudged on, this time with Blackwall in the lead. Dellis could sense his companion's growing frustration with each swing of his sword as the would-be Warden slice through the thickening foliage. Though he was not one of them, and had never truly been a part of their order, Blackwall had grown to deeply respect the Wardens' creed. Despite his deception, Blackwall had come to see himself as one of them, and lived by their ideals more faithfully than most of the Wardens Dellis had met.

"Are you alright?"

Dellis turned toward Cassandra. She watched him intently, her sword and shield still at the ready, though her posture was more relaxed. He hadn't even realized she had been walking alongside him. "A bit scuffed up," he admitted with a smile, "but otherwise I seem to be in one piece."

"Good," she replied with a nod, her gaze quickly returning to the path in front of her. She spoke not another word.

"There, through the trees," Solas announced, pointing ahead of them. With a mighty swing, Blackwall hacked through a thick swath of vines to reveal ruins, clearly elven in origin. Even Dellis could recognize the statues of wolves outside. It was the likeness of Fen'Harel, Solas had explained in one of their many encounters with such relics.

"We should take care," Morrigan warned. "It is not unlikely that Corypheus has already reached this place."

"Let's keep things quiet," Dellis ordered, putting a finger to his lips. "Let's not give ourselves away before we're ready."

With Dellis at the head, the group quietly crept down the long corridor leading into the elven temple. He could hear sounds ahead of them, and corpses littered the hallway. Templars, Wardens, and elves, he noted. No Inquisition forces. The hallway opened into a massive courtyard. Dellis ducked down behind a stone railing as the looming figure of Corypheus came into view, with Samson next to him. Across from them stood nearly a dozen elves, weapons drawn. They blocked a bridge leading further into the ruins.

"Na melana sur, banallen!" one of the elves barked, prompting an amused chuckle from Samson.

"They still think to fight us, Master," Samson said. "They think they can stop you."

Corypheus strode forward without hesitation, towering over his lieutenant. "These are but remnants," he growled. "They will not keep us from the Well of Sorrows."

"Well of Sorrows...?" Dellis whispered. Morrigan, who hid next to him, shrugged lightly in return.

As the dark magister approached the elven warriors, a pair of statues flanking the bridge entrance began to glow a brilliant blue. Corypheus gave them but a glance before turning his piercing gaze on their leader.

"Be honored," Corypheus demanded. "Witness death at the hands of a new god!"

As Corypheus stepped between the two statues, they erupted with light. Tendrils of magic enveloped his body, wrapping themselves around his arms, his legs. He hesitated but a moment, then with an angry snarl he reached forward and wrapped a long-clawed hand around the leader's face. As if he were nothing, Corypheus lifted the man off his feet and held him high in the air. Dellis could hear the elf scream just before the pillars exploded, leaving nothing behind but charred stone.

There was silence as Corypheus's remaining forces crossed the now unguarded bridge. Dellis had no idea what he had just witnessed, but what he was certain of was that Corypheus was gone. Nothing remained after the explosion, or at least nothing that they could see. After peeking over the railing long enough to be satisfied that no templars remained, Dellis quickly got to his feet and made his way down to the landing below.

"What did we just witness?" Dorian asked with a frown. "Don't get me wrong. I'm from Tevinter, so I've seen a lot of blood magic, but this..."

"Not even charred bones left," Bull mumbled from ahead of them. "Damn fool. Embarrassing after all that to be taken out by a couple of elven traps."

"So much for the 'Tale of the Inquisitor'," Varric grumbled. "Would've been a best seller, too."

Dellis watched the last few templars scurry across the bridge. Samson was the last across, and as he reached the far side he turned back and Dellis was sure he could see him grin before disappearing into the temple.

"Shitballs, what the hell!" Sera screamed from behind them. Dellis's head snapped around in time to see her jump back from one of the Warden corpses. It had begun to writhe and moan.

Dellis stepped closer, watching with a mixture of curiosity and horror. He stopped as the corpse's head jerked back, blood suddenly pouring from its mouth, eyes, and ears. Its skin seemed to melt away as the former Warden collapsed into a heap on the stone ground.

"No, it can not be!" Morrigan gasped as the now amorphous mass began to contort and take shape. It didn't take long for Dellis to notice the long tendril-like fingers begin to form.

"Everyone, across the bridge," he shouted. " _Now!_ "

No one questioned him. The group tore off across the bridge to the relative safety of the temple ruins, and Dellis risked a glance over his shoulder as he heard a loud roar in the background. Corypheus's dragon flew toward them, looming ever closer. Dellis was the last one in, and without saying a word everyone set to work pushing the large stone doors shut. The doors were sealed just in time, with only a lick of flame sneaking through.

"Shit, shit shit," Sera muttered from behind them.

"It's alright, Sera," Dellis comforted her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Where are we?"

"Mythal's inner sanctum," Morrigan explained. "We should hurry, lest Corypheus return to his full strength."

"Wait, you mean that _thing_ was Corypheus?" Blackwall asked. "He... he reformed himself from a dead Warden?"

"Troubling, indeed," Solas agreed.

"Morrigan, you told me that the entire reason Corypheus was in the Arbor Wilds was because wanted the Eluvian here, in the Temple of Mythal," Dellis interjected. "What is this 'Well of Sorrows' he mentioned?"

"I... am uncertain of what he referred to," Morrigan admitted.

"So you were guessing," Dellis replied, his voice laced with annoyance.

"Yes, I was wrong," Morrigan conceded, rolling her eyes. "Does that please you?"

"We're all on edge after what we just witnessed," Blackwall reminded them.

"Whatever this Well of Sorrows is, we must reach it before Corypheus," Cassandra added. "If he desires it, he must not have it."

"Come on," Dellis urged. "The longer we wait the better chance Corypheus finds the Well before we do."

The Temple of Mythal was beautiful. Every inch of stone was covered in creeping vines, and both weeds and flowers had grown between the cracks in the aging stone floor. Nature had all but reclaimed the courtyard, and Dellis had to remind himself that they were in a hurry to keep from admiring the view. He did, however, notice the door to the temple. Even with his rudimentary skills, Dellis could clearly see that it was magically sealed.

"Inquisitor, here," Morrigan called from ahead. Dellis jogged toward her, seeing her standing before a pedestal. An inscription was carved into the cold stone.

"Is that elven?" he asked, eyeing the inscription closely. He turned toward Solas. "Can you read it?"

"Atish'all Vir Abelesan," he translated. "It means enter the path of the Well of Sorrows."

"There is something about knowledge," Morrigan added, her brow furrowed as she looked at the words. Dellis hadn't even realized she could read elven. "Respectful or pure. Shiven, shivennen..."

"It is the most we will glean from this location," Solas interrupted, eyeing Morrigan for a moment. "The inscriptions are too worn."

"Perhaps there will be a clearer inscription further into the temple," Dellis suggested, a hint of hope in his voice.

"Supplicants to Mythal would have first paid obeisance here," Morrigan explained. "Following their path may aid entry."

"Allow me," Solas offered, brushing past them.

"Could you get any elfier?" Sera snorted as Solas began to work.

"Performing a ritual to appease elven gods?" Cassandra asked. "Long dead of no, I don't like it."

"I don't see that we really have another choice right now," Dellis shrugged.

"Unless you wish to turn back," Morrigan added. "The entrance to the temple is sealed. This ritual is likely the only way to open it."

As Solas finished the ritual, Dellis could see the wards on the door evaporate. "It is done," Solas announced as he rejoined the party.

The group moved up the stone steps toward the heavy door leading into the heart of the temple. Morrigan stopped as they passed another large statue of a wolf. "Why would _this_ be here?"

"It's Fen'Harel, isn't it?" Dellis asked, remembering the similar statues outside the temple.

"In elven tales, he tricks their gods into sealing themselves away in the Beyond for all time," Morrigan explained. "Setting Fen'Harel in Mythal's greatest sanctum is as blasphemous as painting Andraste naked in the Chantry."

"Some Chantries display statues of Maferath as part of the Chant," Dellis reminded her, hiding a smile as Sera chuckled in the background.

"It might fulfill a similar function," Morrigan admitted. "A reminder of vigilance for the faithful."

Solas had finally heard enough, it seemed. "For all your _knowledge_ , Lady Morrigan, you cannot resist giving legend the weight of history. The wise do not mistake one for the other."

"Pray tell, what meaning does our elven _expert_ sense lurking behind this?" Morrigan asked in reply, her tone cold and sharp.

"This is not a place to stir up old stories," Solas told her dismissively. "Nor do we have the time to waste in discussing it."

"He's right," Varric agreed. "Every minute we spend here bickering about the architecture is a minute Samson has to find the Well."

With a nod, Dellis led the group the rest of the way up the stairs and pushed the heavy door open. Beyond lay another courtyard, and at the top of the stairs Samson turned to face them.

"Hold them off!" he bellowed to his templar lackeys. By the time they had fought through their attackers, Samson and the rest of his minions were nowhere to be found.

"Looks like they blew a hole right through the floor," Bull mused, admiring the crumbling stone. "Rocky'd be proud."

"Well, what're we waiting for?" Varric asked.

"We should walk the petitioner's path, as before," Morrigan disagreed, pointing toward a door behind them. "This door leads to our true destination. T'would be folly to following Samson and his red templars."

"People are dying outside while we stand here," Cole said. Blackwall nodded in agreement.

"Every minute we waste with these nonsense rituals is another dead soldier," the would-be Warden added. "I don't want that blood on my conscience."

"It will be more than the blood of our men if we choose the wrong path," Solas reminded him. "In this case, I agree with the witch. The elves will not take kindly to any measure of disrespect, and we will lose that which we seek."

Dellis turned his attention back to Morrigan. "You seem awfully eager to find that Well, Morrigan. Is there something you're not telling us?"

The mage sighed. "I read more in the first chamber than I revealed," Morrigan admitted. "I am surprised your elven companion did not say something at the time."

"And then we all gasped in surprise that the Witch of the Wilds lied," Varric announced in a mocking tone.

"It said a great boon is given to those who use the Well of Sorrows," she explained. "But at a terrible price."

"Halam-shivanas," Solas offered. "The sweet sacrifice of duty."

"It implies the loss of something personal for duty's sake," Morrigan continued. "Yet for those who served at this temple, a worthwhile trade."

"And I imagine the inscription didn't mention what this price was?" Dellis asked, folding his arms across his chest.

"It was, as most elven writing is, insufferably vague," she answered. "My priority is your cause, but if the opportunity arises to save the Well, I am willing to pay the cost."

Dellis thought about it for a moment. The easy path was almost never the correct one, in his experience, and yet both Cole and Blackwall had a point. Every moment they wasted, more of the Inquisition's forces would die at the hands of the red templars. If he made the wrong choice, those deaths would be meaningless.

"Alright Morrigan, we'll do this your way," Dellis finally decided. "If we're going to make it to that Well before Samson and his templars, we'll at least need to be on the elves' good side. Solas, are you up for it?"

"Of course, Inquisitor," he nodded sagely. "Lead the way."

* * *

The temple trials had taken longer than anticipated, even with Solas's knowledge of elven lore. By the time they completed them, Dellis worried that they would be too late to stop Samson and Corypheus. When they returned to the door, it glowed a brilliant blue as the wards unsealed the path forward. He felt a tingling sensation as bits of magic flowed along his hands as he pushed the door open.

"Be wary," Solas warned as they moved deeper into the chamber. It was empty, save for the lit braziers in each corner. As they reached the center of the room, Dellis could feel the hairs of the back of his neck rise. They were being watched.

"Venavis," a voice shouted from the shadows. A single robed elf appeared on a raised ledge before them. "You are unlike the other invaders. You stumble down our paths at the side of one of our own. You bear the mark of magic, which is... familiar." Dellis looked down at his hand. The anchor glowed softly, as if to punctuate the elf's words. "How has this come to pass? What is your connection to those who first disturbed our slumber?"

"We're surrounded," Varric whispered. "At least twenty. Too many."

"We seek to stop them from reaching the Well of Sorrows," Dellis explained. "They are our enemies. They are the enemies of the entire world."

The elf seemed to consider his words, looking for the truth in them. "I am called Abelas," he told them, apparently satisfied with Dellis's answer. "We are Sentinels, tasked with standing against those who trespass on sacred ground. We wake only to fight, to preserve this place. Our numbers diminish with each invasion.

"I know what you seek," Abelas announced. "Like all who have come before, you wish to drink from the vir'abelasan."

"The Place of the Way of Sorrows," Morrigan whispered excitedly. "He speaks of the Well!"

"It is not _for_ you," Abelas told them. "It is not for _any_ of you."

"Solas, do you have any insight?" Dellis asked.

"Why, because of our shared blood?" Solas replied, his tone dismissive.

"Yes, I suppose that was a silly assumption," Dellis conceded. He turned back to Abelas. "So you're one of the ancient elves, from the time before the Tevinter Imperium destroyed Arlathan?"

"The shemlen did not destroy Arlathan," Abelas explained. His tone was annoyed, as if he were speaking to an ignorant child. "We elvhen warred upon ourselves. By the time the doors to this sanctuary closed, our time was over."

"The Chantry will shit bricks when they hear this," Varric chuckled.

"We're not here to fight your people," Dellis explained. "We came to stop Corypheus. He seeks the Well, and we're here to stop him."

"I believe you," Abelas said with a nod. "Trespassers you are, but you have followed rites of petition. You have shown respect to Mythal. If these others are what you say, then you will have our aid in destroying them. When this is done, you shall be permitted to depart... and never return."

"This is our goal, is it not?" Solas asked quietly. "There is no need to fight these Sentinels."

"Consider carefully," Morrigan cautioned. "You must stop Corypheus, yes, but you may also need the Well for your own."

"Solas is right," Dellis told her. "Regardless of what _will_ happen, we need their support now." He turned back to Abelas. "We accept."

"You will be guided to those you seek," Abelas told them, pointing to an elf on the lower level. She had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. "As for the vir'abelasan, it shall not be despoiled, even if I must destroy it myself."

"No!" Morrigan shouted as Abelas turned to leave. In a flash of purple light, she transformed into a raven and flew after the elf, disappearing through the doorway just before it closed.

"She turned into a bird," Cole said in awe.

"She seeks to protect the Well of Sorrows," Solas explained. "Crude as her methods may be."

Dellis sighed and motioned for the group to follow him toward their guide. "I hope she doesn't do anything to break this alliance we've forged."

"Yeah, surprise arrows are pretty much the worst," Varric returned with a smile as they approached their guide.

"Mythal'enaste," she muttered to herself as she led them through a door that Dellis was relatively certain hadn't been there before.

"What did she say?" he asked. There was a very distinct pause before Solas replied.

"The direct translation is "the favor of Mythal"," he explained.

Sera snorted a laugh. "What he's trying _not_ to say is that she's too elfy to call you a spoon-ear."

"Oh, well then," Dellis muttered, eyeing Sera curiously. He knew better than ask when she suddenly learned to speak elven. "I guess I can't blame her."

The guide led them through long forgotten passages within the temple, revealing hidden doors at each turn. The sounds of fighting could be heard beyond, likely Abelas's warriors battling against the red templars as they pushed toward the Well. There was hope yet that they would reach it in time to protect it from Corypheus.

"Ghilas," the guide ordered, pointing ahead. It appeared she would go no further, and Dellis didn't need Solas to translate the command. Dellis lead the group down the last hallway and pushed the doors open to reveal another courtyard. At the end of the courtyard was the Well of Sorrows. Between them stood Samson and his red templars.

"It's loud," Cole told them with a frown. "And so cold."

The group reached the bottom of the stairs just as the red termplar forces slaughtered the few remaining Sentinels. It didn't take long for one of the templars to bark a warning as they approached.

"Inquisitor," Samson growled. "You and those elf-things don't know when to stop."

"You can end this here and now, Samson," Dellis told him. "Lay down your arms. You don't owe Corypheus anything."

Samson laughed, a deep laugh that reverberated through the small courtyard. "Corypheus chose me twice. First as his general, now as the Vessel for the Well of Sorrows. You know what's inside the Well? Wisdom. The kind of wisdom that can scour a world."

"What is he going to do with wisdom?" Dellis asked.

"I give it to him, and he can walk into the Fade without your precious Anchor," Samson explained, turning toward the Well.

"Have your lost your mind?" Dellis asked. "You're expendable. Once Corypheus has what he wants, he'll cast you aside. He'll be powerful enough that he won't need you or your templars any longer."

"You dare say that to my face?" Samson growled, turning back toward him. "After you butchered my men?"

"You can _save_ your men, Samson," Dellis urged. "Surrender, and you'll be spared."

"You're no match for Corypheus. Even if you drink from the Well, you'll never master its wisdom as he could," Samson countered. "It's a new world now, with a new god. And I will bring Corypheus the Well's power and your head!"

The ensuing battle was briefer than Dellis could have anticipated. The templars, their numbers whittled down by the Sentinels' failed attack, were quickly dispatched, and Samson himself stood little chance against their combined might. The runes Dagna had crafted to protect them from the power of his red lyrium infused armor were certainly partly responsible for their expedited victory. As Samson sputtered his last, the familiar tingle of magic permeated air. Dellis turned just in time to see a familiar elf.

"Abelas!" he shouted as the Sentinel turned toward the Well. Morrigan, still in the form of a raven, flrew after him. She returned to her normal form just steps against of the Sentinel, cutting off his approach as Dellis reached the top of the stairs leading to the Well. Abelas looked between them hesitantly.

"You heard his parting words, Inquisitor," Morrigan warned. "The elf seeks to destroy the Well of Sorrows!"

"So the sanctum is despoiled at last," Abelas conceded with a disappointed sigh.

"You would have destroyed the Well yourself, given the chance," Morrigan reminded him.

"To keep it from your grasping fingers!" he growled. "Better it be lost than bestowed upon the undeserving."

"Fool!" Morrigan chided. "You'd let your people's legacy rot in the shadows."

"Do you even know what you ask?" Abelas's voice was softer. He turned toward the well. "As each servant of Mythal reached the end of their years, they would pass their knowledge on... through this." The Sentinel turned back toward Morrigan. "All that we were. All that we knew. It would be lost forever."

"There are other places, friend. Other duties," Solas interrupted. "Your people yet linger."

"Elvhen such as you?" Abelas asked.

"Yes," Solas nodded. "Such as I."

"You have shown respect to Mythal," Abelas admitted, "and there is a righteousness in you I cannot deny. Is that your desire? To partake of the vir'abelasan as best you can, to fight your enemy?"

"Not without your permission," Dellis replied cautiously.

"One does not obtain permission. One obtains the right." Abelas turned away, pausing for a moment as if in thought. "The vir'abelasan may be too much for a mortal to comprehend. Brave it if you must, but know you this: you shall be bound forever to the will of Mythal."

"Bound?" Morrigan exclaimed. "To a goddess who no longer exists, if she ever did?"

Abelas turned toward her, his brow furrowed in annoyance. "Bound as we are bound. The choice is yours."

"Come fight with us," Dellis urged. "Fight Corypheus. He killed your people."

"We killed ourselves long ago," Abelas replied, a hint of sadness in his voice.

"Malas amelin ne halam, Abelas," Solas told the Sentinel. Abelas nodded, then turned and walked away. "His name. Abelas means sorrow," Solas explained as the Sentinel disappeared into the temple. "I said... I hoped he finds a new name."

The group returned their attention to the Well. "You'll note the intact eluvian," Morrigan mused, pointing to the mirror across from them. "I was correct on that count, at least."

"I'm sorry I ever doubted you," Dellis told her with a hint of a smile.

"The Well is the key to unlocking this eluvian," Morrigan explained. "Once we take its power, this eluvian will be no more use to Corypheus than glass."

"What now?" Dellis asked.

"I am willing to pay the price the Well demands," Morrigan reminded him. "I am also the best suited to use its knowledge in your service."

"Or more likely, to your own ends," Solas interjected, his disapproval apparent.

"What would you know of my _ends_ , elf?" she spat back.

"You are a glutton drooling at the sight of a feast," Solas accused. "You cannot be trusted."

"I guess maybe I should drink, then," Dellis suggested.

"No," Cassandra blurted, clearly far louder and more forcefully than she had intended. Her cheeks went red as the entire group turned to face her. Without speaking, she grabbed the sleeve of Dellis's armor and roughly dragged him out of earshot.

"I take it you disapprove," he guessed.

"You mustn't drink from the Well," Cassandra urged. "Morrigan indicated it would come at a price, and the elf said you would be bound to the will of Mythal. The Inquisition can not afford to lose you."

"The Inquisition, hm?" Dellis asked playfully. The only response he received was a glare. "I thought you didn't even believe in the elven gods."

"I can not describe it, but there is a... feeling," Cassandra explained. "Something is not right with the Well. If there is risk to be taken, allow Morrigan to take it."

"Do you really trust her, though?" Dellis asked with a frown. "I don't believe she'll betray us, but I also don't believe that helping the Inquisition is her only motivation. Or even her _greatest_ motivation."

"It is too dangerous for you take the risk," Cassandra insisted.

"Are you perhaps the slightest bit worried for me?" Dellis asked with a smile.

"I am," she admitted without hesitation. Well, that was unexpected. Dellis had assumed she would deny it, and thus any witty response he might have conjured up instantly vanished.

"Fine," he agreed. "You're right, anyway. Without the Anchor we're all in a sinking ship."

"Have you made your decision?" Morrigan asked as the two returned.

"It's yours," Dellis told her.

Morrigan nodded, then turned toward the Well. It was large enough to be considered more of a pool, and without further hesitation she stepped into it. Waves of magic immediately emanated from the water, wrapping around her as she strode to the center of the Well. With a smile, Morrigan descending into the water, completely submerging herself. There was a great explosion of water, and waves burst out from the Well with enough force to knock the party off their feet.

"Morrigan?" Dellis asked as he got to his feet and ran into the now empty Well. Morrigan pushed herself into a sitting position, a hand on her temple as her eyes narrowed. "Are you alright?"

"Ellasin selah! Vissan... vissanalla...?" She shook her head and pushed herself to her feet. "I... I am intact. There is much to sift through... but now we can-"

Morrigan stopped mid-sentence as a chill passed through them. She pointed toward the courtyard entrance as Corypheus, fully reborn, passed beyond the threshold. His snarl could be heard even at a distance as his eyes fell upon the group.

"Maker's balls," Varric shouted as Corypheus ascended into the air and began moving toward them. "He can _fly_ now?"

"Quickly, the eluvian!" Morrigan shouted. With a flick of her wrist she activated the mirror with the power of the Well.

"Through the mirror!" Dellis shouted. He waved each of his companions through, watching as the magister grew ever closer. The last thing he saw before jumping through was Corypheus's twisted snarl, and he hoped beyond hope that the mirror would seal itself in time.


	28. The Great Protector

"It is done." With a flick of her wrist, Morrigan had sealed the eluvian, and not a moment too soon. Dellis had no idea what had happened on the other side of the portal, but he suspected it included broken glass and a very angry magister.

Skyhold was quiet, with most of the Inquisition's forces still deep within the Arbor Wilds. Dellis had dispatched one of Leliana's birds with a message to let her know that the team had made it back to Skyhold, but the bird hadn't returned and there had been no indication whether the message had even made it to her. He hoped Cullen had pulled their forces out of the wilds, else it would be a very long few days.

"You know, I thought I'd enjoy the quiet," Dorian mentioned from the top of the stairs to the rookery. "Imagine all the reading you'll get done, I told myself."

"Not quite what you expected?" Dellis asked, smiling as he leaned against the railing.

"It's shocking how much louder the birds are when there are no people to drown them out," he exclaimed dramatically. "I daresay I shan't take Fiona and her little magelings for granted in the future."

Dellis chuckled lightly. "I'll believe that when I see it."

"Still no word from Leliana?" Dorian asked.

"Sadly no," Dellis confirmed with a sigh. "The bird hasn't returned and it's been two days. I'm probably just being overanxious, but if they're not back soon I may have to consider sending out a team."

"Honestly, Leliana's agents use these pests to play pranks on me," Dorian told him, smiling just enough to leave his mustache slightly askew. "Naturally they never catch me unawares, but the birds are clever little beasties. There's no need to worry that the message won't arrive."

"I'm sure you're right," Dellis agreed, looking down into the rotunda below. Solas was busy painting a new section of the fresco he'd been working on since the Inquisition had claimed the keep. It was an impressive work of art, and Dellis had initially been surprised to find that the elven mage, aloof as he was, was a rather accomplished artist.

"You know, the view from up here is rather astounding," Dorian mused. Dellis glanced over his shoulder to see the mage peering out the small window next to to Leliana's desk. "Granted the railing outside _this_ window leaves naught but a charming view of the mountains, but the one in my reading nook affords a much wider view of the grounds."

"I know where you're going with this, Dorian," Dellis told him, hiding a smile with a slight shake of his head. "I'm sure the show is _lovely_ from up here."

"I resent your implication, Inquisitor," Dorian replied, winking very noticeably as he turned back to the window. "You should speak with her, you know."

Dellis hesitated. Dorian wasn't usually one to give serious advice about much of anything outside of magic, but he was right. Dellis had been avoiding Cassandra, not the other way around. Her sudden honesty in the wilds had taken him by surprise, and had given him far more to think than he had the time for.

"I know," Dellis finally responded after a painfully long moment of silence. Dorian tilted his head slightly and smiled a knowing smile.

"Or you could keep tip toeing around the keep and hope that she's bad at hide and seek," the mage suggested, his smile growing wider. Dellis would not be goaded into hasty action, he promised himself.

"I need to speak with Morrigan about the Well," Dellis claimed, hoping he sounded convincing. It wasn't untrue, although with half of the Inquisition's forces still away from the keep there was certainly no rush. He saw Dorian roll his eyes before turning to head down the stairs of the tower. Solas's attention was entirely focused on the fresco, and so the elf barely noticed Dellis as he walked through the rotunda and out into the grand hall.

"Dellis."

He skidded to a halt so quickly that he nearly stumbled. "Cassandra!" he exclaimed as he was snapped back to reality. "I... uh... Hello."

"I was hoping we might speak," she told him softly. "After what happened in the wilds, I thought-"

"Inquisitor, you're here!" a voice called from beyond them. A servant very nearly stumbled through the doorway leading from the garden, barely managing to right herself before falling into them. "Thank the Maker you've arrived!"

"Calm yourself," Dellis told her, placing a hand on the woman's shoulder. "What's the matter?"

"It's Lady Morrigan," the servant explained. "She disappeared into the mirror after her son!"

"Morrigan entered the eluvian?" Cassandra asked, her face full of concern. "But she sealed it to prevent Corypheus from using it to reach Skyhold."

"There's no way Corypheus didn't shatter the eluvian on the other end," Dellis added. "Are you certain?"

"Saw it with my own eyes!" the servant insisted. "She stepped right in as if it were water."

Dellis frowned. It seemed impossible that the mirror in the wilds had survived. He wasn't sure if it was more concerning that the mirror might still be intact, or that Morrigan and Kieran might be back in the wilds with Corypheus. He hoped the mirror simply lead to the Crossroads. "I should go after them."

"It's too dangerous," Cassandra told him. "You should not go alone."

"I need you to get help," Dellis countered. "If it's too dangerous I'll come back out." She stared at him, brow furrowed. "I _promise_."

"Fine," she finally agreed with a loud, disgruntled sigh. "If you have not returned by the time I do, we will follow you through the mirror."

Dellis nodded, and the two looked at each other for far longer than he had intended. Her expression was stoic as usual, but try as she might she could not hide the concern from her eyes. Dellis finally broke the gaze and turned toward the mirror, taking one last deep breath before stepping through.

As he exited the other side of the mirror, Dellis's breath caught in his throat. He had expected to find himself in the Crossroads, a place between the waking world and the Fade where the eluvians met. But this... no, this was not the Crossroads. This _was_ the Fade.

The familiar greenish fog clung to his boots as he walked along the rocky paths he remembered from not so long ago. Memories of the Warden Stroud ravaged his mind, leaving tendrils of doubt to weave their way toward his heart. The Fade was no place for mortals, and Dellis had certainly never expected nor wished to return. He would have to find Kieran and Morrigan quickly, and hope no more demons had taken up residence since his last visit. He suddenly regretted leaving his bow and quiver behind.

Dellis waved a hand in front of him to clear the thickening fog, squinting as he tried to make out the shapes in front of him. Eerie crumbling statues littered the precarious passages that winded through the Fade, lit only by flickering green flames. It wasn't until the silhouette he was focusing on moved that Dellis realized it wasn't a statue.

"Morrigan!" he shouted into the mist.

"Turn back, Inquisitor!" she shouted back. "I must find Kieran and get him out before it's too late!"

"Let me help you," Dellis implored, finally clearing the fog. Morrigan stood before him, covered in a thin layer of dirt and grime. She looked beleaguered, her normally stony expression drawn down into an anxious frown. He had heard Leliana tell many stories of the Witch of the Wilds, but if there was one thing Dellis was certain of it was that her love for her son was genuine.

"I do not understand why he would do this," Morrigan said, more to herself than to Dellis. " _How_ could he do this?"

"How is it that we're in the Fade?" Dellis asked.

"It would take immense power to direct the eluvian here," Morrigan explained, her voice still strained with concern.

"Wait, do you mean to tell me that Kieran did this?" Dellis asked.

"He activated the eluvian," Morrigan confirmed with a nod. "I know not how." She sighed deeply. "If he is lost to me, now after all I have sacrificed..."

"We'll find him together," Dellis promised. "He can't have gotten far if you followed him through the mirror. Perhaps we should split up."

"No, 'tis far too dangerous," Morrigan objected. "We should remain together."

The two moved quickly through the stony corridors, following the green torches as if they were beacons. The air was thick with the mists of the Fade, and Dellis could feel the hair standing upright on his neck. "I don't know if it was the Maker or Elgar'nan or Korth or some other god," Dellis growled under his breath, "but whoever or whatever created this place has a really horrible sense of humor."

"Mortals do not belong in this place," Morrigan agreed.

As they reached the top of a winding staircase, the mist began to clear and two figured appeared in the distance. "Kieran?" Morrigan gasped. "And... No, it can't be!"

Neither figure moved as the two approached. The smaller figure was most certainly the boy, and a old woman knelt before him. Though advanced in years, she was clad from head to toe in leather and steel, and Morrigan clearly recognized her. Upon sensing Morrigan's presence, Kieran turned toward her with a smile. "Mother!" he greeted her.

"Mother," Morrigan repeated, her eyes still fixed upon the woman. Suddenly Dellis understood. This woman was none other than Flemeth, the infamous Witch of the Wilds and Morrigan's mother. It had been one of the first stories Leliana had told him when he'd first arrived in Haven, though he had assumed much of it had been exaggerated.

"Now, isn't this a surprise?" Flemeth purred, rising to her feet.

"You're Morrigan's mother?" Dellis asked, his brow furrowed so deeply that his face had actually begun to hurt.

"Mother, daughter, grandson," Morrigan's mother told him, placing a hand on Kieran's shoulder. Morrigan seemed to bristle at the gesture. "It rather warms the heart, does it not?"

"Kieran is _not_ your grandson," Morrigan snarled. "Let him go!"

"As if I were holding the boy hostage," Flemeth chuckled, this time addressing Dellis. He could see Morrigan's rage boiling over. "She's always been ungrateful, you see."

"Ungrateful?" Morrigan repeated, her voice full of resentment. "I know how you plan to extend your life, wicked crone! You will not have me, and you will not have my son!'

Morrigan raised her hands, seemingly to cast a spell, but with a simple wave of her own hand Flemeth dispelled the magic, leaving Morrigan stunned. "That is quite enough."

"What have you done to me?" Morrigan asked.

" _I_ have done nothing," Flemeth replied. " _You_ drank from the Well of your own volition."

"That's... that's not possible," Dellis breathed.

"You... are Mythal," Morrigan gasped.

"B-but she's human," Dellis blubbered. "How could she possibly be an elven goddess?"

"Human. Not a word many have used for me in a very long time," Flemeth told him. "Once I was but a woman, crying out in the lonely darkness for justice. And she came to me, a wisp of an ancient being, and she granted me all I wanted and more. I have carried Mythal through the ages ever since, seeking the justice denied to her."

"Wait, you're saying she's _inside_ you?" Dellis asked, scratching the back of his head.

"She is part of me," Flemeth explained. "No more separate than your heart from your chest." She turned to Morrigan. "You hear the voices of the Well, girl. What do they say?"

"They... say you speak the truth," Morrigan confessed, her face pained.

"So you're a god," Dellis repeated, unable to wrap his head around the revelation. He was beginning to think Leliana's stories may not have been as exaggerated as he had previous assumed.

"Perhaps, perhaps not," Flemeth laughed. "Truth is not the end, but a beginning."

"The Well," Dellis realized. "Did you come here to make Morrigan serve you?"

Flemeth could not contain her laugh. "Oh, what a servant she would make."

"Then what is it you want?" Morrigan asked impatiently.

"One thing, and one thing only," Flemeth replied, her gaze shifting to Kieran. The boy looked up at her, his face full of innocence. Morrigan's eyes flitted between the two before filling with rage.

"No, I will not allow it," she barked.

"He carries a piece of what once was, snatched from the jaws of darkness," Flemeth explained. "You know this."

"He is not your pawn, Mother," Morrigan bellowed, taking a single step forward. "I will not let you use him!"

"Have you not used him?" Flemeth countered. "Was that not your purpose, the reason you agreed to his creation?"

"That was then," Morrigan said softly. "Now he... he is my _son_." Flemeth's eyes seemed to soften slightly as the two stared at each other. Morrigan finally broke the silence, turning toward Dellis. "Flemeth extends her life by possessing the bodies of her daughters, Inquisitor. That was the fate she intended for me. I thwarted her, and now she intends to have Kieran instead!"

"Why the boy?" Dellis asked with a frown. "He's just a child."

"And so much better behaved than his mother was at his age," Flemeth added. If he wasn't mistaken, Dellis thought he could sense a small bit of pride in her voice, and Kieran smiled at the compliment. "Hear my proposal, dear girl. Let me take the lad, and you are free of me forever. I will never interfere with or harm you again. Or keep the lad with you, and you will never be safe from me. I will have my due."

"He returns with me," Morrigan returned without hesitation.

"Decided so quickly?"

"Do whatever you wish," Morrigan spat back. "Take over my body now, if you must, but Kieran will be free of your clutches. I am many things, but I will not be the mother you were to me."

For all her self-assurance, Flemeth faltered. The comment had cut deeply, Dellis could tell, and even Morrigan seemed surprised by the reaction. Flemeth's eyes turned on the boy, who stood patiently beside her. As she reached out to her grandson, Morrigan sprang to her feet.

"Wait," Dellis whispered, grabbing her arm. Flemeth took the boy's hands and with naught but a whisper, a bright blue wisp emerged from his small frame and passed from Kieran to Flemeth. As the wisp disappeared, Flemeth smiled at the child.

"No more dreams?" Kieran asked.

"No more dreams," Flemeth confirmed, still smiling. Kieran returned the smile, then moved toward Morrigan who waited with open arms. "A soul is not forced upon the unwilling, Morrigan. You were never in danger from me."

"Mother, I..."

"Listen to the voices," Flemeth urged. "They will teach you... as I never did."

"Wait!" Morrigan called after her, but Flemeth did not heed her. Without another word she disappeared into the mists.

"Are you alright?" Dellis asked after a moment.

"I... I do not know," Morrigan admitted, hugging Kieran close. "We should leave this place."

The three returned the way they had come, back toward the waiting eluvian. Dellis frowned to see that the mirror no longer glowed the brilliant blue it had when they had arrived. "It's inactive?"

"Kieran, did you seal the eluvian?" Morrigan asked. The boy shrugged.

"Can you unseal it?" Dellis asked, trying to keep the panic from his voice. Being trapped in the Fade for all of eternity was definitely not on his to do list.

"Of course," Morrigan confirmed. With a flick of her wrist the eluvian lit up and the three wasted no time in returning to the waking world.

"Inquisitor!"

Dellis looked up and had to blink several times. "Leliana?" he asked in surprise. "Is that you?"

"Let the Commander know that Morrigan and the Inquisitor have returned," Leliana ordered one of the soldiers waiting with her. She turned her attention back to Dellis. "What happened beyond the mirror? The eluvian sealed behind you almost immediately."

"I don't understand," Dellis continued, ignoring her question. "When did you get back to Skyhold?"

"Yesterday," Leliana explained.

"Yester-" Dellis stopped short. "How long have we been gone?"

"Cassandra said you disappeared into the eluvian three days ago."

Dellis stared at her, wondering if his mouth was nearly as agape as it felt. " _Three days?_ "

"Time is relative in the Fade, Inquisitor," Morrigan reminded him. "This is not terribly surprising."

"You were in the Fade?" Leliana asked. " _Again?_ "

"I'm fairly certain we did not start another Blight," Dellis assured her with a half smile. His head was still spinning, but he knew he didn't have the luxury of dwelling on it. "Have all our forces returned from the Arbor Wilds?"

"Yes, Inquisitor," Leliana nodded. "It will take some time to return to our full strength, but we shall be ready."

"Focus on tending to the wounded," he ordered, trying to casually make his way for the door. Three days. _Cassandra must be furious_ , he thought to himself.

The sun had already set as he exited into the Skyhold gardens. The air was chilly, as usual, and the sky was as clear as the first night they had arrived. If it had been any other night, he might have stopped to admire the stars.

"Where is she?" he asked himself after a thorough search. Cassandra was not at the Herald's Rest, not at the foundry, and Cullen hadn't seen her for hours. The Commander _had_ been happy to spend several minutes describing the aftermath of their departure from the wilds. Several precious minutes that Dellis would never get back. The only other place he could think to look was her quarters. Perhaps it should have been the _first_ place he looked.

Dellis pushed the door open without knocking, breathing a sigh of relief to see Cassandra inside. She stood up from the desk so quickly that she nearly knocked over the candlestick.

"You're safe." Her tone surprised him, although later when he looked back on that night he was unsure why.

"Apparently time moves more slowly in the Fade," he explained as he closed the door behind him. "Leliana told me that-"

"Shut up," she ordered as she moved toward him. With little warning, Cassandra pushed him back into the now closed door, gripping his jacket tightly as she kissed him with just as much passion as he had just weeks earlier. The faint smell of the smoke from the candle and the scent of rose petals clung to her hair, and he drank it in as parched man might drink water.

The door hinges creaked loudly as Cassandra leaned into him with her entire body. Dellis's breath caught in his throat as he felt her hands begin to fumble with his belt. "Cassandra..."

"Don't speak," she begged, looking at him. He smiled briefly before taking her face in his hands, kissing her deeply as she led him toward the bed.


	29. The Next Morning

Dellis yawned lightly as he woke, stretching groggily beneath the cotton sheets. His eyes fluttered open, and it took him a moment to remember where he was. He was usually greeted by the sun streaming through the tall windows of his quarters, but the windows of this room were far smaller and allowed only the slightest bit of sunlight. 

As he stretched, Dellis's arms spread across the width of the bed. He dared not even look to confirm what he already knew: Cassandra was not there. It came as no surprise to him that she had fled the room before he woke, though it hardly prevented the disappointment. With a sigh, Dellis threw off the sheets and began to collect his clothes. He hoped he could sneak back to his quarters to change into something fresh before anyone saw him. 

It was far later in the day than Dellis had anticipated. The main hall of keep was bustling with activity, something Dellis realized would serve him well. He kept his head down as he made his way through the grand hall, hoping the cacophony of the servants would mask his presence. He managed to make it to his quarters with only a few passing pleasantries from the kitchen staff, none of whom were likely to remember what he had worn the day before. 

Dellis had nearly managed to make it out of the keep before he was noticed. "Your Inquisitorialness, hold up." 

"Your... what?" Dellis asked, stopping and turning toward Varric. "Does this mean you've given up on Squiggles finally?" 

"Not on your life," Varric promised with a grin. "Been looking for you all morning. Where have you been?" 

"I slept in," Dellis told him. It wasn't a lie, after all. 

"Somewhere else, I take it," Varric told him with a small smile. "Anyway, Hawke was looking for you." 

"She's back?" Dellis asked in surprise. He hadn't seen Hawke around Skyhold since a certain pirate had turned up. 

"As of this morning," Varric confirmed. "Honestly didn't think we'd see her back here for weeks." 

"I suppose I shouldn't keep them waiting." Dellis wasn't foolish enough to think Hawke had returned alone. He looked at Varric a moment longer, then sighed. He would much rather track down Cassandra, but he knew it would be better to find Hawke. Perhaps giving Cassandra some time alone to think would make the impending conversation easier. 

"Good luck," Varric offered with a low chuckle. 

Asking where Hawke was would have been a wasted gesture. There were only two places Hawke ever visited in Skyhold - the gardens, and the Herald's Rest. Isabela spotted him first, waving him toward their table with an enthusiasm that suggested she had been drinking for quite some time. 

"It's about time you arrived, Kitten," she purred as he sat down next to her. "And here I thought Hawke and I would run the place dry." 

"Good luck," Dellis told her with a laugh. "Cabot may be a cynical bastard, but he knows how to keep the ale flowing." 

"Speaking of which, I think I owe you a drink," Hawke told him with a wink. "Rumor has it you did not return to your quarters last night." 

"Maker's breath," Dellis sighed, rolling his eyes as Hawke slid a mug toward him. "Just how widespread are these rumors?" 

"Wondering if Cassandra is ever going to look you in the eye again?" Hawke asked with a smile. Dellis grabbed the mug and slammed the contents down in one massive gulp. Even as he swallowed, he wasn't entirely sure what he'd just drank. "You worry too much." 

"Clearly you don't know her very well," Dellis said under his breath. 

"Relax, sweetness," Isabela urged, sliding over another mug. 

"I'm surprised you're not taking advantage of this situation," Dellis scoffed, taking a sip from the mug. Bad Antivan brandy, perhaps? 

"I told you to go for it," Isabela reminded him. She had encouraged him - rather bluntly - to pursue things with Cassandra on their journey together to Skyhold after he'd met her in Jader. "I don't imagine you took my advice...?" 

"It was rather spur of the moment," Dellis admitted. "Besides, I don't think she would be keen on the idea." 

"Always works for me," Isabela replied with a smile. 

"That's how you know it wouldn't work for Cassandra," Hawke chuckled, taking a long swig from her own glass. 

"Hawke, please tell me you didn't call me here just to embarrass me," Dellis sighed. 

"Why would I do a thing like that?" Hawke asked, an innocent smile on her face. It faded slightly as she produced a letter from the satchel at her side. "Apparently Bethany has a reply." 

"A re-? Oh." Dellis swallowed. 

"I'm not angry," Hawke clarified as she handed it to him. "I'm rather curious what it says." 

"Nothing you would disapprove of, I'm sure," Dellis insisted. 

"You'd probably be surprised," Isabela laughed. "Hawke disapproves of just about everything. Templars, blood magic, small dogs..." 

"That was one time, Bels." 

"I hate it when you call me that." 

Dellis chuckled lightly as the women argued, taking their moment of distraction to gently break the seal on the letter. Hawke had mentioned that her sister had gone into hiding after the circles fell. A wise choice, he thought, given the chaos that had surrounded the conflict. Bethany was a powerful mage, he knew, but even she would have been at risk. 

Several weeks earlier Dellis had hesitated at the idea of sending her a message. Ever since Hawke had mentioned her after arriving, Dellis couldn't help but wonder if she were safe. It wasn't as if he still felt anything for her. Their relationship, fleeting as it was, was entirely in the past. He still couldn't help but feel some level of responsibility for the young mage, especially in his position. 

"Is she still madly in love with you?" Isabela asked after a moment, interrupting his pondering. She squealed as Hawke kicked her under the table. "What?" 

"Don't encourage him." 

"You have absolutely nothing to worry about," Dellis assured her with a laugh. "The second half of the letter is for you, anyway." 

"Really?" Hawke asked, quickly snatching the parchment away from him. "Give it here." 

"Where did you even get this letter?" Dellis asked Isabela as Hawke buried herself in the note. 

"A dear, dear friend," Isabela told him. "You'd like her. She seems your type." 

"Is this one Varric mentioned?" Dellis asked. "Lady-" 

"-Manhands," Isabela finished with a snort. "That's my girl." 

"She's a friend of yours, you say?" Dellis asked skeptically. 

"You could say that," Isabela replied with a smile. "An... unconventional sort of friend, maybe." 

"Some days I'm surprised you have friends," Dellis admitted. "Others... I completely understand what you mean." 

"Look, I know my opinion isn't worth much, but when I told you to go for it before, I meant it," Isabela told him. "The whipped cream suggestion was just for the look on your face." She paused. "Although..." 

"No," Dellis told her firmly. 

"It was worth a try," she replied with a smile. "Don't tell anyone I said something serious. I have a reputation to uphold." 

"No one will hear of it," Dellis promised with a grin. "What is this stuff, anyway?" 

"Whiskey," Isabela explained with a smile. "We brought it back with us." 

"From where?" he asked, sniffing the liquid. It burned the inside of his nostrils. 

"A little place we like to call The Hanged Man." 

Dellis remembered the reference. "You were in Kirkwall?" 

"I knew I liked you," Isabela laughed. "Tell you what, sweet thing. Once this is all over, Hawke and I will take you to the Blooming Rose." 

"Varric told me about that, too," Dellis told her, unable to hide a grin. "I'm fairly certain that will be out of the question." 

"We'll see about that." 

* * *

Hawke and Isabela had kept Dellis busy for the better part of the afternoon. He had allowed himself to become enthralled by the pirate's tales of life at sea, and the recounting of their many adventures in Kirkwall. By the time their conversation was interrupted, Dellis hadn't even realized it was nearly sunset. 

It was Scout Harding that finally broke up the friendly banter. She sauntered up to the table, as if invited, and cleared her throat. "Your Worship?" 

"Good to see you, Harding," Dellis told her with a smile. 

"I thought you might like to know that Lady Cassandra is back," Harding told him with a hint of a smile. 

"Back?" Dellis asked. "She was gone?" 

"All day, Your Worship," Harding explained. "Left at the crack of dawn with Cullen." 

"You certainly make an impression," Isabela said with a soft laugh. 

"Quiet," he growled at the pirate before turning back to Harding. "Did you see where she went?" 

"Toward the keep," Harding told him, pointing to the main building. Unusual for Cassandra, Dellis thought. Unless she was hiding from him, of course. 

"You'd better get moving," Hawke suggested with a smile. "I'm sure Isabela and I can keep ourselves busy without you." 

"You can bet on it, Kitten," Isabela confirmed with her usual lascivious grin. 

Dellis excused himself and made a beeline for the keep. His first destination was Josephine's office. She didn't seem to hear him enter, and her attention was drawn entirely to a piece of parchment. He softly cleared his throat so as not to startle her. 

"Inquisitor!" she said, quickly snapping to attention. "My apologies. I did not hear you enter." 

"It's quite alright, Josie," Dellis assured her with a smile. "I was just wondering if perhaps you had seen Cassandra." 

"Unfortunately I have not," Josephine told him. "I have been rather engrossed with my work that I have scarcely had a moment to spare." 

"Oh," Dellis said with a hint of disappointment. 

"If she is here in the keep, you might check the tower," Josephine suggested. "She has been known to visit Leliana from time to time." 

"Why didn't I think of that?" Dellis muttered to himself. "Thank you, Josie. You're a gem." 

"You are most welcome, Inquisitor." 

"Don't forget to eat something," Dellis ordered with a smile before turning to leave. 

The winding staircase leading to the top of the keep's tower seemed longer than ever. His legs burned as he hurried to the top, paying no mind to the Inquisition agents that looked on at him curiously. Even Dorian give him a sideways glance as Dellis brushed past him toward the last set of stairs. 

Cassandra's back was toward him as he finally reached the top of the stairs. Leliana faltered just long enough in their conversation to tell her they were no longer alone. Cassandra hesitated as she turned to face him. 

"I thought I might find you here," Dellis told her. A quick glance at Leliana was all the cue the Spymaster needed. 

"You two, follow me." Leliana ordered, pointing to the pair of agents across from them. The two looked at her curiously as she moved toward the stairs. "Now." 

Dellis smiled slightly as the two men hurriedly followed Leliana down the stairs. As he turned back to Cassandra, the smile faded. "You look concerned." 

"Why do you say that?" she asked. 

"You have that same look on your face that you get when Josephine tries to dress you up for formal functions," Dellis replied, folding his arms across his chest. Cassandra shifted uncomfortably. "You didn't have to actually leave Skyhold, you know." 

"Cullen asked for my help training the recruits," Cassandra explained. 

"He asked, or you offered?" Dellis countered. Her hesitancy gave him his answer. "You know, it's not as though I asked you marry me." 

"It was a moment of weakness," Cassandra explained, shaking her head. "I should have-" 

"Stop," Dellis interrupted. He moved closer to her, so that there was no more than a few feet between them. "You don't need to do this, Cass." 

She sighed deeply. "This infatuation is dangerous. Last night was a mistake that we must not repeat." 

Dellis raised an eyebrow. "I think we'll have to disagree on that point." 

"Dellis, please do not make this more difficult than it must be," Cassandra pleaded. He could see the pain in her eyes, and he imagined that this had been what she had come to speak with Leliana about. 

"It doesn't have to be difficult," Dellis told her, placing a hand on her upper arm. She tensed at the touch, but did not back away. "We both know this isn't just an infatuation, and it's not a mistake." 

"Dellis..." 

"Cassandra." 

She sighed deeply. "You will not let this go, I take it." 

"Ask yourself, truthfully, if you really want me to let you push me away," Dellis challenged. She looked at him, silently. Finally, she sighed in defeat. 

"I do not want to do this, Dellis," she explained, "but every moment of distraction on the battlefield could cost us our lives, or worse." 

"If you had a choice in the matter, I'd say that made sense," Dellis replied. "But love isn't a choice. Love is a pesky little thing that worms its way into your heart whether you like it or not. It shows up when and where you least expect it, and it's not going to go away just because the timing is inconvenient." 

"And you said you were not a poet," Cassandra said after a moment, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. 

"Just don't ask me to rhyme," he chuckled, letting his hand slide down to hers. "It is a bad idea, but I don't care, and I don't think you do either." 

"I have spent so much time denying these feelings," Cassandra told him, lacing her fingers between his. "First I told myself that you were beneath me. Of course it was not true. Then I told myself that it was inappropriate. I, a Seeker, and you, the Inquisitor. And then I told myself it would be a danger." 

"It might be dangerous," Dellis agreed. "But we both know our duty." 

"Would you let me die if it meant defeating Corypheus?" she asked him softly. 

Dellis faltered. He knew he would. There was no other choice. Saying it out loud, however, was another matter entirely. It was a possibility - a likelihood, even - and he didn't want to think about it. "You know the answer to that," he told her. "Don't... don't make me say it." 

"I know you would do what was right," she told him with a smile. "I came here tonight to seek counsel from Leliana, about you. I wanted her to convince me to break away from you." 

"I'm glad you didn't listen." 

"I did listen," Cassandra explained. "She told me I was full of nonsense, and should not deny myself what little happiness I had found." 

"I knew I liked her," Dellis grinned. "What do we do now?" 

"Sleep," Cassanda suggested with a smile. "Soon we may have little chance for rest." 

"My quarters are more comfortable," Dellis suggested with a grin. She sighed and rolled her eyes, but made no complaint as he guided her down the stairs of the tower. 

* * *

A few heads had turned when Dellis and Cassandra exited the tower leading from his quarters together the next morning, and Dellis knew it wouldn't be long before they were fighting rumors in addition to Corypheus's forces. 

"The servants will talk," Cassandra warned as they walked briskly toward the war room. 

"That's nothing new," Dellis shrugged. They stopped in front of the door to Josephine's office. "It won't be long before Corypheus forces our hand. The Inquisition might not be around much longer." 

"We will have time to talk of the future," Cassandra assured him, cutting off the conversation as she opened the door. 

"Your Worship," one of Josephine's assistants greeted them. "The rest are waiting inside for you." 

"Fashionably late, as always," Dellis grinned, taking the lead. He pushed open the door to the war room, Cassandra close at his heels, and his took his place beside Morrigan. 

"Some day you'll show up on time," Cullen told him with a smile. 

"Whatever you say, Commander," Dellis grinned. "So, has Morrigan filled you in in my absence?" 

"We thought it would be best to wait for you and Cassandra," Leliana explained. 

"T'would seem that Corypheus is more powerful than we first suspected," Morrigan began. "He seems to be able to inhabit the body of any tainted creature, Grey Warden or otherwise." 

"What makes you say that?" Dellis asked with a frown. "There were no other darkspawn there to test your theory on." 

"Tis the way of the archdemons," Morrigan told him flatly. "Kill the beast, and its soul inhabits the closest darkspawn." 

"Unless the tainted creature is a Grey Warden," Leliana reminded her. "The Grey Wardens were able to destroy the soul at the cost of their own life." 

As the two women argued over the finer points of archdemons and the tain, it hit him. "The Grey Wardens knew he could do this." 

"How do you mean?" Cullen asked with a frown. 

"Grey Wardens slay darkspawn, and Corypheus is a darkspawn," Dellis explained. "If he could be slain, why would they simply imprison him?" 

"Perhaps for study," Cassandra suggested. 

"That is possible, but the risk would have been too great," Leliana told him. "Think what you will of the Wardens, but they were not foolish." 

"They must have known he couldn't be killed," Dellis continued. He sighed loudly. "How do you kill something that can't be killed?" 

"Corypheus has a weakness," Morrigan told him. Everyone turned to look at her. 

"How could you possibly know that?" Cullen asked with a frown. 

"The Well of Sorrows holds many secrets, passed down throughout the ages," Morrigan told them. "More knowledge than I would have thought possible." 

"The Well told you something about Corypheus?" Dellis asked. 

"Corypheus's dragon is not truly an archdemon," Morrigan told him. "It is a dragon, and one in which he has invested a part of his being." 

"Pride," Leliana scoffed. "The prideful always seek power." 

"That pride can be exploited," Morrigan continued. "Tis likely he did so to emulate the gods of old, however if the dragon were to be slain, Corypheus's ability to leap into other bodies would be disrupted. He can be slain." 

"So if we kill the dragon, Corypheus won't have enough power to reincarnate himself?" Dellis asked, turning toward Cassandra. 

"You wish me to slay it?" she asked with a laugh. "I confess I have never before slain an archdemon." 

"It's a dragon," Dellis shrugged. "If it were a normal dragon, would you be able to kill it?" 

"Without breaking a sweat." 

"So perhaps Cassandra will need to put some effort into this task, for once," Leliana suggested with a smile. 

"But how will we find this dragon?" Cullen asked. "That dragon has to come and go from somewhere." 

"What about the Deep Roads?" Josephine asked. "It is an archdemon-" 

"Sort of," Dellis clarified. 

"It is sort of an archdemon," Josephine corrected. "I could send envoys to Orzammar. Perhaps the King would-" 

Josephine was interrupted by a flash of green light. Dellis yelped in pain as the anchor flared in his palm. Cassandra was quick to move to his side, but their attention was almost immediately drawn to the windows. The entire room was bathed in green, this time not from the anchor. 

"The sky," Josephine said with a gasp. 

"That's impossible," Cullen declared as he stared at the sky with the rest of them. "That's-" 

"The breach," Leliana finished solemnly. "It has returned." 

"I suppose that moves our time table forward," Dellis said with a sigh. 

"And now we know where to find Corypheus and his dragon," Leliana added. "We return to the place where all of this started: The Temple of Sacred Ashes."


	30. Fate Emptied of Hope

Panic had spread throughout Skyhold almost immediately after the breach had reappeared above the ruins of the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Most of the Inquisition's forces were still recuperating from their campaign in the arbor wilds, and so Commander Cullen was forced to take creative measures to ready enough of their soldiers to make a push on the temple.

Despite numerous protests on his part, Dellis had acquiesced to Leliana's requests to send out teams of her agents as forward scouts. Kawyn had been the first to volunteer, citing the unique skills she possessed as one of the Dalish. Leliana had agreed that her training would serve her well in such a capacity, and with two against one Dellis was forced to agree.

"I don't like this, Kawyn," he told her sternly. The young elf smiled at him. It was that same smile he remembered from their youth, which she usually reserved for the times when he had said something particularly daft.

"You need to know what to expect," she reminded him. "I can get in and out without being seen."

"It's a big risk," Dellis continued, his frown becoming more severe.

"Stop worrying, lethallin," Kawyn told him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I will return with news of Corypheus soon."

"You still care for her," Cassandra said from behind him as Kawyn walked away.

"Of course I do," Dellis replied honestly. "She'll always be a friend, and I worry for her safety out there."

"She is lucky to have you," Cassandra replied with a smile. "I have heard Leliana speak highly of her skills. She will be fine."

"I certainly hope," Dellis sighed. Their entire operation was running on borrowed time. The breach had grown to nearly double the size it had been when it first appeared in the span of only six hours. It was imperative that they were prepared when they made the final push on the temple, but if they didn't move soon they would risk being too late.

"Inquisitor," Cullen called from behind them. Both Dellis and Cassandra turned to face him. He looked just as haggard as Dellis felt.

"How are we doing, Commander?" Dellis asked.

"I estimate we are at seventy five percent strength," Cullen explained. "Not where I'd like to be, but I think it's the most we'll be able to pull from these soldiers."

"Casualties were high in the arbor wilds," Cassandra reminded him with a weak smile. "The forces we have will have to suffice."

"We don't have much choice in the matter regardless," Culen agreed. "They'll be ready to march on your order, Inquisitor."

"Great," Dellis said with a sigh.

"Are you alright, Dellis?" Cassandra asked after a moment, once Cullen had disappeared back into his office.

"We're about to set off to kill an archdemon so we can maybe kill a darkspawn magister that, up until now, we thought unkillable," Dellis told her with a laugh. "Yeah, I'm great."

"We will win the day," Cassandra assured him.

"Are you sure you can kill that dragon?" Dellis asked, his brow furrowed. He had heard the stories, but Cassandra had said it herself - she had never slain an archdemon, and an archdemon was only a dragon in form. The truth of it was that none of them knew much about archdemons at all, and while that might not be what it was in fact, it was certain more than _just_ a dragon. He suddenly found himself wishing that Blackwall hadn't been an imposter.

"It has been a number of years since I have slain a dragon," Cassandra admitted. "It is not something that one forgets, however."

"How do you kill a dragon?" he asked curiously. With a smirk, Cassandra reached down to her belt and pulled a small dagger out of its sheath. It was shorter than the daggers that he and Cole used, and had a large notch carved out of one side, halfway down the blade.

"Into the neck," she explained, making a stabbing motion a little bit too close to his own neck for comfort. "A slight twist of the wrist, a yank, and the jugular is severed."

Dellis raised an eyebrow. "How do you plan to get close enough to stab that monstrosity in the neck, exactly?"

Cassandra paused as she considered his question. "I had not quite worked out that part."

"So you have no idea," Dellis clarified, frowning.

"It is not something that can be planned," she explained with an annoyed sigh. "Even small drakes are unpredictable. One must take the opportunities as they are presented."

"I hope you're also an expert at not getting eaten by dragons," he said with a grin. He smiled to hide the dread building at the pit of his stomach. However it ended, this was the end. There would be no going back, and no second chances.

"Do not worry over the dragon," Cassandra told him. "You must focus on defeating Corypheus."

"If it can even be done," Dellis sighed. It was now or never. With a weak smile, he turned away and jogged off to catch up with Cullen.

* * *

"Too many," Harding announced, her small figure slumping ever so slightly. Too many enemies for them to fight was what she meant. Kawyn had warned them, but they were running out of time and had no choice but to press forward. Dellis was crouched beside the dwarf, their group hidden safely out of view of the dozens of red templars and demons that littered the only accessible path to the Temple of Sacred Ashes.

The Inquisition's forces had split up to attack the temple from multiple directions, hoping to -- and succeeding in -- routing a large portion of Corypheus's minions. But it wasn't enough. It wasn't nearly enough. Harding knew it, the team knew it, and Dellis knew it.

"We don't have a choice," he finally told her, eliciting a worried frown from his lead scout. It was a look he had become accustomed to, but of all the times he'd seen it, this time seemed the most appropriate.

"You've got to be kidding," Sera exclaimed, pointing at the horde below them. "There's got to be, what, a hundred of them?"

She had exaggerated, but not by much. Dellis felt a twinge of regret at his decision to assign the Chargers elsewhere. Cullen and Leliana had agreed that attacking at the temple's flanks would draw off enough of Corypheus's forces to make a frontal assault by a small but robust team feasible. Either Corypheus knew of their plan, and dedicated the bulk of his force to the main entrance, or there were simply more of them than they had anticipated. He realized it didn't really matter. There would be casualties either way.

"Whatever we do, we must act now," Cassandra's harsh words broke through the haze. Dellis looked up to see her concerned eyes, watching his every movement.

"Yes, of course," he replied with a nod. He turned to his companions. "Thoughts?"

"Together, Morrigan and I may be able to erect a barrier strong enough to protect against the worst of things, so long as you all cozy up," Dorian suggested. Morrigan sighed softly, but voiced no protest.

"Let me handle the barriers."

Everyone turned toward the new voice. "Solas?" Dellis asked. "I thought you were with Krem."

"The Lieutenant and I agreed that my skills would be better used here," the elf explained. "Leave the barriers to me."

"A better plan," Morrigan agreed. She looked please, no doubt glad to be released from protection duty. Dellis had seen her work. Very few mages could boast her talents without the aid of blood magic.

"Cass, Thom, see if you can keep them distracted," Dellis ordered. Blackwall smiled, nodding in response as he hefted his shield in front of him. "Dorian and Morrigan, do what you do best."

"You don't have to tell me twice," Dorian replied with a wink.

Dellis turned his attention to his two fellow archers. "Ladies, our job is to make sure nobody gets near our mages."

"Of course, Inquisitor," Harding nodded, pulling an arrow out of its sheath and gently setting it on the string. Sera remained silent. Her face betrayed the unease that crept into her features each time they fought demons. But Dellis knew she would fight just as hard as the rest of them.

"Alright, friends, this is it," Dellis told them. "We _have_ to break through this line. Failure is not an option. Stay together, and protect each other."

For a brief moment, there was complete silence. There would be no resounding battle cry, since they couldn't risk alerting the enemy. But everyone's eyes fell on Dellis. He felt as though he might collapse beneath the weight of their expectant stares.

"May the Maker watch over us all," Cassandra finally said, breaking the silence. She turned toward the temple, raised her shield, and lead the charge.

Their enemy had clearly anticipated the attack, but was unprepared for the sheer ferocity of Cassandra's assault. She cut a swath through red templars and demons alike, batting away wraiths with her shield as if they were little more than flies.

Dellis quickly nocked an arrow and let it loose. It soared into the mess of bodies, finally burying itself in the eye socket of a templar knight. The templar landed on the ground with the loud clank of armor on stone, no more than a few meters from Cassandra. She looked up for the briefest of moments, an appreciative gleam in her eye, before returning her full attention to the demon threatening to devour her whole.

By this point the battle was in full swing. All of Solas' energy was focused on maintaining the barriers around Cassandra and Blackwall. Sera and Harding kept their distance from the fighting as best they could, peppering the field with arrows to suppress as many templars as possible. The demons seemed unbothered by this tactic.

While the archers suppressed, Dorian and Morrigan pressed their attack. Dellis had rarely seen the two mages interact, and had only witnessed them fight together in the arbor wilds, but their synergy was truly a sight to behold. With a wide sweep of his staff, Dorian would send icy tendrils streaking out across the battlefield, only to have them shattered by Morrigan's ensuing inferno. The display was both impressive and deadly, leaving little more than scorched earth in its wake.

"Is there no end to these things?" Dorian barked as more demons poured out of the temple. Dellis could feel sweat dripping down the back of his neck. There must have been a rift open somewhere out of sight, closer to the temple entrance. If they wanted to succeed, Dellis would need to seal the rift, which meant cutting through a potentially endless stream of demons, and they had been outnumbered to begin with.

"Press forward!" Cassandra ordered, her voice barely audible over the roar of combat. With a loud clang she deftly brushed aside a templar's sword, burying her own blade deep into the man's chest. His battered body slumped to the stones below as she stepped over him, ready for the next attacker.

 _This is not the time to be admiring Cassandra's battle prowess_ , Dellis told himself as he readied another arrow. _You've seen her fight a hundred times. Focus on the mission._

Slowly they moved forward. Step by step, they moved closer and closer to the temple entrance. Dellis could see the rift now, its green pulsating form shimmering in the distance. Only what seemed like a horde of demons stood in their way. Few of the red templars remained a threat, thanks to Cassandra and Blackwall's unrelenting advance and the mages' elemental assault.

"Pride demon or behemoth?" Dorian asked, flicking his wrist and coating a demon in a layer of solid ice.

"What?" Dellis asked, turning his head quizzically at his companion.

"These things always happen," Dorian explained. "Either a pride demon will pop out of that rift, or one of those red lyrium abominations will sneak up behind us."

"Don't give them any ideas, Dorian," Dellis warned, grabbing another arrow from his quiver. Before he could nock it, an ear-splitting screech rang out through the air, causing Dellis to nearly lose his balance. "You had to say something, didn't you?"

"Dorian Pavus, mage extraordinaire _and_ clairvoyant!" The mage's self-assured smirk faded abruptly as the origin of the sound became apparent. Corypheus's dragon dropped out of the sky, landing squarely between them and the rift. Its wings beat so furiously that Dellis nearly lost his footing.

"Damn it, Dorian!" Dellis growled as he braced against the gusts of wind.

"Never again," he promised, his tone serious and his grip on his staff tightening.

"Cassandra, are you ready?" Dellis shouted, his voice nearly muffled by the dragon's roars.

"We have little choice regardless," she replied, hefting her shield in front of her. "Keep your distance."

They had fought dragons before, on several occasions, and they each knew their part in the fight. But those dragons, even the great Kaltenzahn, were nothing compared to the beast before them. High dragons were always impressive, but this dragon had been corrupted by red lyrium. Its appearance was horrific, at best. Its figure was deformed, with enormous chunks of red lyrium protruding at regular intervals along the length of its neck and body, much like the converted red templars. It was larger than any high dragon he had ever seen, though whether that was the result of the red lyrium or simply Corypheus's particular taste he couldn't say.

The plan was simple enough. Distract the dragon to allow Cassandra to slay it, and don't get eaten or stepped on. Simple enough, indeed.

Cassandra and Blackwall advanced carefully, their shields at the ready. In truth, a shield would do little to prevent a dragon from devouring them whole if it had a mind to, but both were experienced warriors. Rather than approach shoulder to shoulder, the two spread apart, advancing on either side of the great beast. They hoped to keep it distracted, but not one of them had considered that Corypheus controlled the dragon.

The creature ignored Blackwall and Cassandra entirely and moved forward quicker than a beast its size had any right to. Moved forward, directly at Dellis. He barely managed to duck away from the dragon's claws as it swiped the air just above his head. As he tried to scramble to his feet, he saw its fangs racing toward him. _This is it. This is how I die._

It took took Dellis a moment to realize he was still alive. He opened his eyes as a heavy hand landed on his arm and yanked him backwards. The thick wall of ice that had saved his life crumbled as the dragon slammed into it again with all of its strength, and had Blackwall not hauled him to safety Dellis was certain he would be somewhere in the dragon's gullet.

"Inquisitor, you must move quickly," Solas shouted. The dragon paid no mind to anyone but Dellis, and it advanced on him with a singlemindedness that would be alien to a natural creature. Spells from the three mages splashed harmlessly off its thick, red lyrium infused hide. It was all but invulnerable. They hadn't planned for an invincible dragon. It might as _well_ have been an archdemon.

"Dellis, lead it this way," Cassandra ordered, pointing toward a crumbled wall. She had climbed atop it, and Dellis understood what she was planning. Firing arrows at the creature was a waste, so he didn't bother. Instead, he continued to dodge the dragon's attacks, leading it closer and closer to Cassandra.

"Just a bit further!" Cassandra shouted. The dragon was just out of her reach when it stopped. Dellis took a step backward, waving his arms at the great beast.

"Come get me, you lumbering monster," Dellis taunted. The dragon made no effort to move toward him. Dellis frowned, until he remembered their last altercation with a dragon. He dove for cover just as the warm glow of fire rose up in the dragon's throat. Unnatural red flames erupted from its mouth, pouring over the short, crumbling wall Dellis had taken refuge behind. He hissed through his teeth as he felt the searing heat through his leathers and the smell of burning hair. Assuming the wall held, he'd be full of pain and regret come morning.

There was a loud screech as the fire dissipated. Dellis peaked his head over the edge of the wall to see Cassandra clinging to the dragon's back as it bucked, dagger in her hand. The dragon tossed its head violently as she drove it into the wyrm's neck, throwing her to the ground and howling into the cold night air before flying off.

"Are you alright?" Dellis asked Cassandra, jogging toward her. She slowly pushed herself to her feet, a look of anger on her face.

"I am fine," she growled.

"Did you kill it?" Dellis asked. The look she gave him in return could have frozen a rage demon solid. "I mean, is it going to die?"

"No," she told him gruffly. She pointed to the empty dagger sheath. She must have left the blade embedded in the creature's neck when it flew off. Retrieving it and killing the dragon would be a tall order, even for her, and she undoubtedly knew that. Dellis tried not to think about it. As his companions held off the handful of remaining demons, Dellis quickly sealed the rift.

"The dragon will return," Solas warned as they regrouped. "We should ensure we are prepared."

"Inquisitor," Harding half croaked, pointing toward the temple with her bow. A lone figure stood against the stark backdrop of stone and snow. "It's Corypheus."

"You flail like children swatting at flies," Corypheus spoke, holding the orb in front of him. "Where is your Maker now? He does not exist."

"What is he waiting for?" Dorian whispered. Dellis gripped his bow tightly, feeling another droplet of sweat trickle down his back. The fact he was alone meant nothing. He knew the magister was more than capable of holding his own in a fight, even with the lot of them. More than capable, he feared.

"We're not afraid of you," Dellis announced, taking a step forward. Corypheus's already misshapen face twisted into a smile.

"Do you believe your own words, Inquisitor?" he asked. "You cower before me, weak and powerless. Soon the world will know your failure."

Dellis clenched his jaw, squeezing the wooden shaft of the bow hard enough to leave his knuckles white. He would not be taunted by this creature.

"Bow before me," Corypheus demanded. "Bow before your new god and be spared."

"We will never bow to you while I still draw breath," Dellis replied sternly.

"Painfully predictable." Corypheus raised his arms, causing the orb to glow a brilliant red. It floated above him, pulsing tendrils or crimson energy away from its surface and toward the magister below. They arced downward, toward Corypheus's outstretched hands, and traced their way along his arms. With a crack, he struck his arms downward. Dellis nearly lost his footing as the ground trembled and began to split beneath them.

"Move!" Cassandra shouted as the group retreated from the newly-forming chasm. Dellis watched in awe as huge chunks of the earth began to slowly rise toward the heavens. The entire temple floated away toward the breach, and Corypheus with it.

Dellis craned his neck upwards. There hadn't been a choice. They had to succeed, or Thedas would fall. The _world_ would fall. And there was the Temple of Sacred Ashes, drifting up toward the sky, unreachable.

"Well, shit."


	31. The False God

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's been 2 years since the last update, but I did promise that I was going to finish this story, and I will.

Cassandra stared up toward the breach, looking at the floating ruins of the Temple of Sacred Ashes. It seemed that Corypheus was more powerful than any of them had imagined, if he could raise the entire temple with a simple gesture. This was powerful magic, indeed.

"How in blazes are we supposed to get up there?" Dellis asked, sounding defeated.

"Tis a simple thing," Morrigan offered casually. "The knowledge of the Well showed me much."

"Such as...?"

"Do you plan to magick us up to the temple?" Dorian asked, crossing his arms and giving his fellow mage a look of suspicion.

"How quaint you are, Tevinter," Morrigan returned with a light chuckle.

"She's a shapeshifter," Harding explained from behind them. "I've seen her do it out in the field."

"So, what, you gonna turn into a bird and carry us all up there?" Sera asked, looking equally skeptical.

Morrigan rolled her eyes. "Really, you believe t'would be possible to carry all of you up into the sky as a sparrow?"

"A dragon," Cassandra offered as she rested her hand on the hilt of her sword. In her time with the Seekers she had heard of all variety of magic, including Morrigan's ability to transform into creatures of the wilds. Never had she heard of any mage being able to take the form of a dragon, save for one. Varric had told her of Flemeth, the Witch of the Wilds, and her ability to transform into a high dragon. Of course, at first she had not believed it. She had accused Varric of lying. But after a time, she had come to believe even the most unfathomable of his tales, and since Morrigan was Flemeth's daughter, it seemed all too possible.

"How very perceptive, Seeker," Morrigan replied with a small smile. "Until drinking from the Well I had thought it impossible for all but my mother."

"I think we know why your mother was able to do the impossible," Dellis added.

"Yes, it seems the Dalish elves kept many secrets locked away," Morrigan agreed, her lips curling into the slightest of sneers. "Regardless, I believe I can take the form of a high dragon and carry the Inquisitor to the ruins."

"You? A dragon?" Sera scoffed. "You're mad if you think I'm climbing up on your scaley magicky back."

"Then you may stay here, on the ground," Morrigan replied, a hint of annoyance in her tone. "I see no other options available to us, Inquisitor. It is either this, or we quit the field."

"We can't afford to give up," Dellis agreed. "How many of us can you carry?"

"Four, perhaps five," Morrigan answered, shrugging her shoulders lightly. "Tis not a transformation I have attempted as of yet."

Dellis looked squarely at Cassandra, wordlessly confirming she would be among those carried to the ruins above them. It was sensible, considering she alone could slay Corypheus's dragon, and was also the only one of them that had actually ridden a dragon before.

"Who else will volunteer to join us?" she asked to the rest of the group. For a moment, there was no response.

"Oh, why not," Dorian finally broke the silence. "I suppose it's my duty as a Tevinter mage to help stop a monster of my own people's making."

The group turned to look at Solas, who had been surprisingly silent. Normally, he would be the first to offer wisdom and advice, especially where magic was concerned. But this time he seemed content to defer to Morrigan. "Of course, I shall join you as well," he told them with a solemn nod.

"Then I'd better come too," Blackwall added. "You'll need another shield if there are more demons up there."

"Are you sure you can do this?" Dellis asked Morrigan, who shrugged.

"We shall find out in a moment." Morrigan stepped away from them, then closed her eyes. At first, nothing happened. Cassandra crossed her arms and clenched her jaw, silently praying that Morrigan had not been mistaken. Just as she began to give up a hope, a bright golden flash of light erupted from the mage. Cassandra shielded her eyes with her hand, and when she dropped her arm her eyes fell on the form of a massive high dragon.

Cassandra's instincts told her to reach for her sword, but Morrigan made no movement toward them. Dellis was the first to step forward, prompting the dragon to bend toward him. He slowly climbed up Morrigan's neck and seated himself on her back. The rest of the group followed suit, leaving Cassandra to sit at the front of the beast.

"Take hold of the spines," Cassandra instructed, pointing toward the scales jutting from Morrigan's back.

"I expect it'll be a long fall if we don't," Dorian chirped, the nervousness in features betraying the confidence in his voice.

It had been nearly twenty years since Cassandra had last been on top of a dragon, and it was certainly an experience she never thought she would relive. She gripped the dragon's spines tighter as Morrigan shifted her weight before leaping into the air with a great beat of her wings. Dorian, who sat directly behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist like a vice. Had she not been wearing armor, Cassandra was sure he would have crushed her in his terror.

The wind whipped around them as Morrigan soared upward, twisting and turning to avoid floating bits of the temple trailing down from the remaining ruins. Cassandra held on tightly, knowing that if she lost her grip she would doom the entire group.

Not content to wait for its enemies, the red lyrium dragon launched into the air with a mighty roar that could be heard above the wind howling past her ears. It seemed a miracle that the entire group wasn't thrown from Morrigan's back as the opposing dragon dove toward them, causing Morrigan to suddenly veer off course. She could feel Dorian's arms around her waist tighten, just as she could feel her own grip slipping, as Morrigan tried to evade the enemy dragon's mid-air attacks.

Finally, after a particularly violent jerk, Cassandra felt her hands slide free. She shouted in protest as she tumbled off of Morrigan's back and hurtled toward the ground. She landed with a grunt, the wind knocked from her lungs, but realized she was still alive despite the pain of the rough landing. Morrigan had managed to fly above the ruins before throwing the group, though she was now nowhere to be found.

"Are you alright?" Dellis asked, helping Cassandra to her feet.

"I am fine," she replied, quickly over her shoulder. The rest of the party seemed to have survived their fall as well. "Where is-"

The ear-splitting roar of Corypheus's dragon answered her question before she could finish speaking it. It landed before them, beating its wings angrily. Fresh wounds marked its thick hide. Morrigan had injured it.

"We will need to distract the dragon," Solas told them. "Dorian and I may be able to keep it at bay with magic, but you must be quick."

Cassandra turned her gaze on the dragon itself, quickly spotting the knife still embedded in its hide. She would need to mount the creature and finish what she had started.

"If Corypheus is controlling that dragon, I hope he's still arrogant enough to focus on me," Dellis said with a half-hearted smile, taking a deep breath as they faced off with the mighty beast.

"Inquisitor, you must keep your distance," Solas warned. "Dorian and I will do our best to shield you."

With a nod, Dorian readied his staff and moved next to Solas. The two mages wasted no time in erecting a barrier of solid ice between the dragon and the group. The red lyrium dragon snarled and reared up on its hind legs, its throat glowing a warm red.

"Take cover!" Blackwall bellowed, diving behind a ruined wall. Unnatural red flames poured from the dragon's mouth into the ice wall. It sizzled as the ice began to melt.

"This isn't going to work!" Dellis shouted to the two mages.

"Have faith, Inquisitor," Solas returned, setting his jaw as he focused on the magic barrier. As the outer edge boiled away, new layers of ice grew to replace them. "Go, end this now!"

Cassandra watched on as Dellis scrambled to flank the beast. She hefted her shield and prepared to do the same, motioning for Blackwall to follow her. She would need to get to her knife quickly while it was distracted, otherwise they might not get another chance.

"I'm over here, ugly!" Dellis shouted, waving his bow at the dragon. The creature immediately turned to face him, giving Dorian and Solas a moment to breathe before pressing the attack. The dragon ignored their onslaught, though the barrage of ice and fire slowed it just enough that the two warriors could sneak up behind it unnoticed.

With one last deep breath, Cassandra sheathed her sword and nodded at Blackwall.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked her, slinging his shield onto his back.

"There is no other way," Cassandra told him, waiting for him to get into position. He crouched down as close to the dragon as he could manage, then nodded. Cassandra dropped her shield, letting it fall to the ground with a loud clang, then ran toward Blackwall. Using her momentum, he launched her up and over his shoulder directly onto the dragon's back.

Now the dragon took notice of her. It bucked wildly, nearly throwing Cassandra, but she gripped its spines tightly. She slowly began to climb up its back, but the beast's movements were making it difficult.

"If we don't do something, she'll never be able to slay it," Dorian said as the group anxiously watched Cassandra's efforts.

"Leave it to me," Dellis shouted from a distance, dropping his bow and running at the dragon. It noticed him almost immediately, and for a moment the creature seemed to hesitate. Dellis pulled out a dagger and buried it into the dragon's front leg. It howled angrily, and with a single swipe sent Dellis hurtling backwards into a pile of debris. It was the distraction Cassandra needed. She clambered the rest of the way up the dragon's neck and reached out to grip the handle of her dagger. With a quick twist she severed the beast's jugular, then pulled the blade from its neck. The dragon howled in pain, bucking back onto its hind legs. Cassandra tumbled off the dragon's back, landing on the stones below with a thud. The dragon collapsed before her as it succumbed to the wound.

"Inquisitor, are you alright?" Blackwall asked, helping Dellis to his feet as Cassandra rejoined the party.

"I'll be fine," he replied with a wince. "I'm sure I didn't need those bones anyway."

"Is it dead?" Dorian asked, glancing beyond them at the motionless form of Corypheus's dragon.

"Yes," Cassandra confirmed. "In the end, it was just a dragon."

"It seemed like it was trying to fight Corypheus's control at the end," Dellis commented. "Did you notice it falter when I charged it?"

"That is curious," Solas agreed. "Perhaps Corypheus is not as powerful as he might lead us to believe."

"Or perhaps he underestimated the resolve of dragons," Cassandra suggested with a smile.

"We need to find him," Dellis told them, pointing toward the temple proper. "He must somewhere in there."

"I'll take up the rear," Blackwall offered, holding Cassandra's shield out. She took it then moved to the front of the group.

"We'll make it through this," Dellis told her, softly enough that only she could hear him.

She smiled to herself. "I believe you."

* * *

The Temple of Sacred Ashes was empty. Cassandra had expected to find demons, at least, but the ruined halls echoed naught but their footsteps as the group pressed on in their search for Corypheus. She knew, as did the others, that if he were to be anywhere, it would be in the main hall.

"You don't think the temple will fall if we kill Corypheus, do you?" Blackwall asked, his voice breaking the eerie silence. "I mean, if Morrigan doesn't come back..."

"There's nothing we can do about it either way, so we can worry about it later," Dellis interrupted. "Cass, how close are we to the main chamber?"

"Close," she confirmed, gripping her sword tightly.

Cassandra watched as Dellis's eyes scanned the familiar surroundings. "This is eerie," he said as they pressed on.

"It feels like an age since we were last here," Cassandra agreed. "To see this place in such ruin..."

"I wondered when you would arrive," Corypheus's disembodied voice echoed through the crumbling stone halls.

"Divine's balls," Dorian hissed, prompting several raised eyebrows. He shrugged. "I'm from Tevinter."

"The Breach is growing larger," Solas warned, pointing toward the sky. "We must hurry."

"There he is!" Dellis barked. In the center of the great hall, where they had once fought a pride demon, was the Tevinter Magister himself. In his right hand he held the orb. Red tendrils of lyrium-infused magic crackled around his hand, and his face pulled up into a self-assured smile.

"You have come here to die, Inquisitor," Corypheus's voice boomed through the massive chamber. "Face me, and know pain."

"Does he never tire of hearing his own voice?" Dorian asked, gripping his staff so tightly his knuckles had gone white.

"Thom, Cass, you take the lead," Dellis ordered. "We'll follow behind."

Cassandra moved shoulder to shoulder with the would-be Warden, hoisting her shield in front of her and turning her head to meet his gaze. He nodded grimly and followed suit. "Solas, Dorian, can you provide a barrier?"

"That we can," Solas told her with a nod. "However, I cannot promise it will last."

"We just need it to hold long enough to get close," Dellis assured them, pulling an arrow out of his quiver.

Cassandra tightened her grip on her shield and leveled her gaze on Corypheus. "Forward!" she bellowed. The magister's laughter boomed throughout the hall as the group slowly advanced.

"I think we're going to need to pick up the pace," Dorian announced, pointing toward the sky. Just as when it first opened, the Breach was new spewing demons directly at the temple. Cassandra stopped abruptly as a demon crashed into the stone steps in front of them, quickly raising her shield to ward off attack. She very nearly lost her footing as the newly-appeared rage demon crashed into the shield, but the mages were quick to dispatch it.

"We must hurry!" she bellowed. Corypheus's laughter continued as they pushed further and further toward the apex of the temple. Once they finally cut their way to the top, he waited for them.

"The soporati come to strike at a Magister," Corypheus said with a scowl as the group stopped. Cassandra felt her grip on her shield tighten. She would never admit to the others that she was afraid, but she would be a fool not to be.

"And an altus," Dorian barked in return. He sounded confident, though Cassandra was sure she could hear the sound of his hands tightening on his staff.

"You are a traitor to the Imperium," Corypheus growled. "An _embarrassment_."

"You know, my father once said the same thing," Dorian replied with a shrug. "I didn't much care then, and I certainly don't care now."

"Insolent _fools!"_ Corypheus raised the orb, now glowing a brilliant red. Solas just barely managed to put up a barrier before a torrent of red magic washed over them.

"You just _had_ to taunt him!" Dellis shouted over the crackle of the energy.

"This will not hold," Solas warned, his voice betraying the strain of maintaining the barrier. "You must find cover, _now_."

Cassandra clenched her jaw almost as tightly as she gripped the shield. The barrier was starting to shrink back as the orb's energy continued to wash over them. She glanced over her shoulder to see the rest of the group scrambling to find protection among the ruins. Finally she turned to Blackwall, nodding silently. The two of them broke formation and each jumped to cover just as Solas's barrier broke.

"It is pointless to resist," Corypheus cackled as the magical onslaught subsided. "You can hope to defeat a god."

"You're not a god," Dellis shouted from a distance. "You're just a man whose reach exceeded his grasp, and I'm going to end you."

Cassandra peaked her head around the edge of the crumbling wall she had taken cover behind, and for a moment she felt as though her heart had stopped. Before her stood Corypheus, orb in hand, and _Dellis_.

"Dellis, _take cover!_ " she shouted. He ignored her and instead boldly advanced on the Tevinter Magister. He was going to get himself killed if she didn't do something.

"You are foolish, Inquisitor," Corypheus gloated, once again raising the orb. It glowed, then crackled with red energy.

"I am the Chosen of Andraste," Dellis countered, raising his left hand.

Cassandra was halfway to Dellis's position when Corypheus unleashed the full power of the orb on the Inquisitor. For a moment, time seemed to stop. She would watch him be killed, and then Corypheus would slaughter the rest of them. She skidded to a halt as the anchor erupted in his palm, almost as if it thought the orb was a rift. The green energy of the mark lanced out at the incoming red wave, crashing together with a heat that forced Cassandra to raise her shield to block it.

"Impossible!" Corypheus bellowed. "The anchor does not have the power to defeat me!"

"But _I_ do," Dellis growled, digging his boots into the stone and leaning into the attack. Cassandra lowered her shield just enough to see the clash of magic grow brighter and brighter. Finally, with a loud crack, the magical nexus detonated. The shockwave was so strong is launched Cassandra off her feet. She landed on her back with a resounding thud, groaning in pain as she fumbled for her sword.

"Where are they?" a voice echoed in her ears. A hand reached down to help her up, and as her vision steadied she was finally able to understand the question.

"Where _are_ they?" Blackwall repeated, scanning the room. There was a large scar on the stone where the two magicks had exploded, but no sign of Corypheus or Dellis. The temple ruins were painfully silent as Cassandra realized that the Inquisitor was gone.


End file.
